


We'll Dance Again

by runaway_killjoy



Series: Skating In A Ttutu [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Skating, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-19 10:10:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2384552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runaway_killjoy/pseuds/runaway_killjoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank has to move towns with his mom. He's disheartened to realize that teenagers are judgemental and manipulative no matter where you go. And no one gets judged quite as bad as the ballerina/skater boy who isn't even 5ft.<br/>Skater boy AU prompt, Frerard</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

I can hear my mom smiling. Do you know how disturbing that is? She’s been so excited for so long and now her smile has a little signal that lets me know just how happy she is.

     My little box of stuff bounces on my lap as we fly over a speed bump. We’ve driven for eleven hours. Probably not safe but I don’t care and neither does my mom because we’ve almost made it to our new house. When mom spoke about the small town I’m going to be stuck in for another two years I had just pictured a shrunken New Jersey but this is different. The tallest building is a church. Every road is two lanes and something to slow you down that isn’t traffic.

     Weirder still; there’s parking available everywhere.

     My mom got a new job that promises to pay her enough that we can survive without people’s charity. That’s probably why she’s so excited. I could have stayed with my dad in New Jersey but I don’t really want to leave my mom in a new place all alone. Eleven hours would never get her friends or me to visit regularly.

     The main reason I wanted to move here was because I fucking hate my old neighbourhood and school and I need a fresh start.

     Junior year may be a bit late for a fresh start but it still beats living under the title “dancing emo fag” for any longer.

     My mom has started babbling again about the fact that there’s only two high schools here and how small the town is and other stuff. I’m not really listening; I just want to sleep. No one should ever have to wake at five am, ever. Especially not on a Saturday. I usually would only be closing the laptop and heading for bed by then. Also probably not a good idea but I’ve never really worked in my own best interest

    “Look Frank!” my mom chirps, “This is the neighbourhood!”

    I glance out the window and see a small housing estate with small houses all with small cars parked outside. Everything seems dwarfed. We’ll fit right in.

    My mom drives right into the neighbourhood and stares out the window at each passing house, counting the numbers. “Thirteen, fourteen, shit Frank ours must be well off the road.” Finally we make it to number thirty three, a small grey house that looks exactly like the buildings around it.

     The truck with all our stuff in it hasn’t arrived yet and it wasn’t visibly behind us for the second half of the journey.

     My mom pulls into the narrow drive and flies out of her seat. “We’re here! This is the house!” She fumbles with her keys till she finds one that looks shiny and new. She prods the door in excitement till they key is in and turned. She glides in, giddy on the high of a new house.

     _This is it_ I think standing before the opened door leading into a narrow pale hall _this is the door to a new life._ Without another thought I step in and walk toward where I think the kitchen would be.

 

The moving truck arrives about two hours after us. They have our table and chairs, beds and couches. Pretty much everything that could have added to our comfort. My mom ordered a pizza and we sat on the kitchen floor. The only stuff in the house was what we’d put in the car so potted plants and dishes. I brought my cd player too but Mom refuses to listen to any of my CDs.

     I unpack my things and go straight to bed, which I had to wait to be carried up the stairs. I fall asleep easily for the first time since eighth grade. Tomorrow is Sunday and then I have school. No one like my mom to leave something as big as moving to the very last minute.

     My mom gives me a lift into the local dance school the next morning. Nothing endorses the whole “faggot” look like ballet.

     “Hi, I’d like to enrol in the next term of ballet lessons…” I mumble to the woman at the front desk. My mom’s at Walmart picking up the badly needed food. I ate cold pizza for breakfast.

     “Hello. Oh a boy. What’s your name sugar?” the woman says searching for something on an overly cluttered desk.

     “Eh… Frank uh Iero. I-e-r-o,” I stutter.

     “Yea you can spell it all here,” she hands me a form, “if you’re under sixteen you’ll need a parent’s signature.”

     “I’m sixteen,” I sigh. I know I don’t look it.

     “One term is two hundred dollars that covers costumes and everything right up to and including the Christmas show. You needn’t pay it all now,” she says all this as I look down on the form. Cheaper than my old place but a little… efficient. In the gender selection bit it says “girl” or “other please specify”.

     I fill in the three pages. The last page has all the actual important information like “type of dance you wish to partake in” and stuff on past experiences. I dig out my phone to get the phone number of my previous school. “Do you dance much son?” the woman is saying to me now while she files her nails.

     I nod as I scribble in the last few bits of information. “Yea I do. Um when are the lessons?”

     “For what dance?” she asks taking the forms.

     “Ballet,” her eyebrows shoot upwards. The tiny teenage boy in an Iron Maiden shirt and black skinny jeans is a ballerina. I get her surprise.

     “Starting this Friday at seven pm. Open class at eleven on a Saturday morning so you can get some practise in, that alright with you sugar?” She puts my form in a drawer in her desk, folds her arms and looks up at me.

     “Yea I’m sure that’s okay. Bye.”

     “Have a nice day sweetheart.”

     Well that whole experience made me uncomfortable. Last time I enrolled in a ballet school I was seven and my mom filled out the forms. Also they probably had better questions but whatever. I’m on an adventure now to find Walmart.

 

“Mom, leave it,” I groan as my mom continues to tell me “no weird band shirts on your first day.” There is nothing weird about my Sex Pistols shirt except that it says Sex Pistols and “god save the queen” on a picture of Elizabeth the seconds face… Whatever I’m sure there’ll be others wearing band shirts in school.

     I’m horrified when I see the ones that are. I’m in the door of the two story, 1970s hideous building when all I see are tshirts with One Direction and the 1975. Yea, I believe everyone should have their own taste in music but I can tell straight away no one here is going to feel the same way in return.

     Heads turn and eyes glare down at me as I sidle my way through the press to find the secretary’s office. “Freshman” some people grumble down at me, not a bit insulting.

     In the secretary’s office a boy about my age is smiling and stapling things together. “Hi, you’re new. Name?” he beams down.

     “Uh Frank Iero…” This kid is younger than me for sure but so much taller and so much neater.

     He searches through a stack of paper. When he’s gotten to the bottom he frowns and starts again. “Sorry I’ll have to go look for your schedule and things… I thought I’d put all the freshmen in one pile…”

     “Maybe you have but I’m a junior,” I say a little disheartened by the fact that everyone thinks I’m a freshman.

     “Oh… Right, I’m sorry,” he turns around and gets a page, “I hope I didn’t insult you… Here’s your schedule, map and stuff to give to your parents.”

      “Thanks,” I look down at my schedule. First class: Math. Fuck my life. “Uh could you point me in the general direction of the room?”

      The guy beams, “Sure! I’m Brendon, by the by. It’s out the door, to your right and up the stairs. It’s the first room on your right you can’t miss it.”

      Tactfully I do. Miss it completely and almost walk straight into a classroom full of freshman. Not the best option. I then wander around like an idiot until I find a room with a matching number and stumble in instead to a classroom full of glaring sixteen and seventeen year olds, half of which look hungover.

     The teacher, an elderly man with thick glasses and thin hair smiles creepily from the board. “You must be Frank Iero,” he mispronounces my surname but I’m not about to correct him straight off. Here we go, first impressions, time to not be a loser. “Frank’s moved here from New Jersey! Frank, why don’t you take one of the spare desks?” He motions toward two dodgy looking desks in the front of the room, right in front of the desk. Yay.

     Math has never been my strength. Geometry especially. Triangles should just fuck off and I doubt there is any chance I’ll get any better with them when I’m sitting practically on the teacher’s lap and still struggle to hear him. Whatever.

     The class passes slowly as I sit uncomfortably on the plastic chair close enough to the teacher, Mr. Roberts, that I can smell his man perfume. I scribble some disjointed figures and angles and have paper footballs thrown at me with ingenious slogans such as _shouldn’t you be in with the freshman’s_ or _are you an emo_ and my personal favourite; _shorty._ One class in and I’m already getting fan mail. This school is going to be so much better…

    The rest of the classes pass in a similar way. I turn up late, get introduced by every teacher and end up sitting spitting distance from them. Slowly as the day goes on I get less and less love notes and more and more homework. It’s the first day and I already have more due for tomorrow than I think physically possible to complete.

     Lunch sucked. I sat alone in a classroom with my earbuds in, blasting the misfits. I ate an apple and stared out the window at cars moving slowly by and kids practicing all sorts of sports on the various fields. I could never make friends before, I just kind of had a table of people I sat and ate with and discussed the misfits with but by the preppy smiles and letter jackets I doubt I’ll get that here.

 

At home mom asks me about my first day. I say that it was good and whatever the fuck makes moms feel like their children are happy, well rounded people. I know she just wanted to talk about her day so I brush off talk of my new school and the people and ask her how her day was. She seems delighted and I’m happy for her, I knew she wanted a job like this for ages and they just weren’t available in New Jersey. Something I don’t believe because secretarial assistants are needed everywhere.

     I do my homework as quick as possible, eat and ask my mom if I can go exploring. She agrees as long as I’m back for ten.

     I take my skateboard out onto the street and skate off in a direction I’ve never been before. It leads me out onto another road and I feel like my little neighbourhood is just a bunch of sterile houses built on a street attaching two parts of the town. I skate around a bit on that road and find a park. It’s got a few trees, a few benches and a few kids shooting up heroine. Now it feels like Jersey. I skate around a bit and find a shabby theatre, another Walmart and a library. The library is closed so I skate in around the edge, into the car park out the back. Not a single car as expected. There’s stone benches and railings though and even better a ramp leading up the two steps into the library. There’s a big NO SKATING sign up and over it spray painted is _BAD_ between the two original words. What clever vandalism…

     I skate around for a while, trying some basic tricks and flipping the board as a skate off the ramp.

     It’s dark now and I should really get home, especially considering the way home is through the park where the kids were injecting happiness into themselves. Back at the house I discard my clothes and board and lie half naked on my bed, scrolling through social media until three am.


	2. Two

I fly out of bed at seven thirty. Four and a half hours sleep will get me through to lunch where, if I’m lucky, I’ll find a nice bathroom cubicle where I can take a nap.

     My mom drops me to school plenty early so I get to wait around in the halls getting stares from everyone nearby. The bell goes off and I push my way in to more geometry to try get a seat that isn’t under Mr. Roberts’ nose. I’m hoping he won’t notice me take a nap if I sit in the back or shielded by the glare or morning light from a window.

     Somehow I’m one of the first people in the room yet one of the last to sit down and manage to grab a seat between a guy with a cold and a girl who has all the work done within seconds so she can scrape things into the desk. I don’t think I want to read that desk.

     At lunch I can’t find a nice cubicle in the bathroom. In fact I can’t find a bathroom. This school is smaller than my old one and yet I’ve managed to get so lost I’ve entered a part of the school facing out over a swimming pol. I didn’t even know there was a swimming pool.

     I find my way down and outside. The pool is stretched out before me like a blue road to hell because at the opposite side is a long red wall. I’m curious to see what’s on the other side but I don’t want to get even more lost.

     More tired than I had planned, I march around the edge of the school. For a flatish small building its walls seem to go on forever. There’s a shady few steps where I envision all the emos or maybe band kids would hang out because it’s outside the band room but no one sits there. Every student at this school seems to be cut of the same plain cloth. Why am I here? I bet the other school has people who I wouldn’t hate.

     The front steps are in front of me but that only promises an expedition to find my locker and classes again.

     When I’m finally at my locker again trying to balance all the books I hear footsteps. “Hey you!” a gruff voice says.

     I turn around. “Yea you. You’re that kid who told me I’m wrong in English,” the guy says. I knew that’d come back to haunt me. But seriously, how can you mispronounce every third word? “You’re the new kid so shut up. My girlfriend’s in that class and you made me look real stupid.”

     “I think you did a good enough job of that yourself,” I say the words before I can stop myself. Fuck.

     The guy’s eyes narrow. “You think you is some sort of funny guy, huh?” Fuck, fuck, fuck.

     “No, I just know I’m literate,” why am I still talking, “and you aren’t.” Okay shut the fuck up Iero, I like the way your throat is, unslit. The guys fists ball up and he glares a glare that could freeze fire.

     He breathes a calming breath. “I’m not going to beat the shit out of you right now, because there’s teachers everywhere but also because I’m a nice guy.” With that he knocks all my books onto the floor, pulls the things at the bottom of my locker out and shoves me in. I’m trying to push against but he’s strong and I’m currently bent very awkwardly inside a metal box. The door swings closed and I hear the feint sound of a lock. Fuck.

 

I spend the last ten minutes of lunch and the first ten minutes of chemistry shoved inside my locker. I’m not sure whether it’s from lack of oxygen or tiredness but at some point I pass out. I only wake at my liberation. The metal door creaks open and I fall out on top of a guy with huge hair. He looks quite shocked at the fact that some dude just fell on him out of a locker. I would be too. I’d be shocked just to find a junior who fits in a locker.

     “Oh… Sorry… Thanks…” I mumble rolling off the guy and onto linoleum.

     “It’s okay. And um you’re welcome. I saw the stuff on the ground and was just going to put it back in…” He says standing up. He has really amazingly big hair. “I should get back to class, are you okay”

     “Yea. I’m okay now, thanks again.”

     “It’s cool.” He walks off at a quick pace in the direction I think the bathrooms are in. I don’t really feel like going to chemistry anyway so I organize my locker and go sit in a janitors closet for a nap.

 

I don’t have as much homework today and am finished and fed by five thirty. I decide on my way down the road that I’ll go back to the library car park.

     I glide through the park which is now full of elderly people and children. In the next few hours this scene is going to become it’s polar opposite.

     The library is still open when I get there but there’s only one car. Out of respect and the assumption it belongs to the librarian I skate on the other side. I’m trying to do a 540 shove it on the flatland and floor myself. Perfect timing four two girls with long braids and freckled faces to emerge from the library. They don’t laugh at my failure, just roll their eyes and murmur “uneducated emo” and continue walking toward the park. What lovely people this town sports.

     I keep trying to do the shove it when I hear wheels on tarmac. I look up in mid-air and lose concentration. I completely flop myself again landing ungracefully on the tarmac, scraping my palms and leaving a small hole in each knee of my jeans. Excellent.

     I hear sniggering. When I finally find the will to lift myself from kissing the ground I see a group of guys about my age on skateboards looking down at me. “Didn’t you read the sign boy, no _bad_ skateboarding,” one with black hair says. Okay that’s not a good thing to differentiate them with because all but one has black hair.

     “Uh yea I read it,” I’m not really sure what to say. Probably could have come up with something more sarcastic or clever but my attention is caught by a guy in the back. He’s wearing eyeliner and the same shirt as me.

     One of the black haired ones skates forward a bit, “Who are you? I don’t think I’ve seen you before and I thought I knew all the boarders.”

     “Yea I’m new. My name’s Frank,” I say picking up my board as it begins to roll away.

     “I’m Pete,” another one with black hair says, skating behind the other guy and smiling.

     “Hi,” I manage to say before they are all being introduced by Pete who is now skating in between everyone.

     “This is Gabe,” he says going between the sarcastic dude and me, “this is Gerard,” he waves at the guy who stole mu outfit, “his brother Mikey and our converted skater Bert. I like your shirt by the way, the misfits’ rock.”

     Gerard’s head snaps up and his eyes settle on my shirt and he smiles. The dude is kind of hot… Temptation to say “my eyes are up here” is strong but I fight against it.

     I nod slowly. People are never this friendly straight off. And they certainly never compliment my clothes. Maybe they’re going to beat me up… Then I notice under his hoodie Pete is wearing a Metallica shirt.

     “What school are you in, I didn’t notice any new students in my year, what about yours Mikey?” Pete asks, Mikey shakes his head.

     “I’m in Riverside,” I say carefully. I hadn’t seen these guys at my school but I pray to something that they’re in my school too.

      Pete’s face falls, “Aw shit man, that school is full of… um…”

     “Hipsters?” prompts Gabe, now trying a simple Ollie.

     “Yea…” everyone’s skating now.

      “How did you find our skating spot?” one asks going toward the ramp. Bert, I think.

     “Uh I just skated through the park… I’ll go now,” I mumble putting my board on the ground and making my way toward the park again.

     “You don’t have to!” at least two say at the same time. This feels really weird.

     What’s weirder is when I stay they just do what I assume normal skater guys do: skate. They skate and play music and skate and talk about music.

     I’m really shy at first until someone has an opinion completely opposite to mine. “No, no, no. The significance is…” or “Yea but the guitar in that song is way better than any of their new stuff.” I feel like one of those “I like their earlier stuff people” but the others don’t seem to notice.

     We all decide to leave at the same time, skating through the park in V formation like we’re some kind of gang, not five guys and some dude they just met who disagrees with them on the best Iron Maiden song.

     We pass two teenagers making out in the middle of the path. Gabe throws stones at them until they move. I wish I could throw stones too because the guy had shoved me in a locker.

     “You should have said I would have thrown more, bigger, sharper ones,” Gabe grins as we sit on a park bench. Gerard is tightening his wheels or something. The sky above is brown and there are orange flickering lights all over the park, every third one broken or just dead. “Seriously I can’t believe you went to riverside,” Gabe says staring off into the distance, “it’s a school full of pricks who do sports like football and baseball and get into top colleges just because they can do that.”

     “I didn’t know which school was better my mom decided, I’m from New Jersey,” I say standing up. It’s embarrassing how I’m standing and only now as tall as the sitting Gabe.

     We skate out of the park, kicking up gravel and dust in our wake. At the edge of the park we go our separate ways, Gerard and Mikey skating with me onto my street. We reach their door houses before mine. “Wanna hang out tomorrow?” Gerard calls over his shoulder.

     “Yea sure!” I skate home grinning like an idiot.

 

When I’m in bed later I open my laptop. Five friend requests. I start grinning at my screen like an absolute dork. Accept, accept, accept, accept and accept. I don’t think I’ve ever had so many people actually want to talk to me… It feels way better than having two people to talk to, both of which prefer each other’s company way more. Actually I’m not even sure if they liked me at all, just pitied. Either way, I have people to throw stones at jocks with now, even if they’re not in my school.


	3. Three

I drag myself to school the next morning. Mom refused to drive me because… well I’m not even sure I couldn’t hear her over the sound of my own tiredness.

     I don’t even feel well. My stomach is really sore but when I told my mom she said I had to go in on my third day and something about having the immune system of a cucumber.

     The way to my school on foot is so different from being in a car I get lost twice, ending up in cul de sacs and parking lots. At one point I’m about to turn in to a school when I realise it says St Brigit’s elementary.

     When I finally reach the front steps of the school I hear the bell go and have to run in and find my class.

      Late for geometry and manage to get front row seats the show of the century…. Listening to Mr. Robert’s gradually get quieter as the equations got more complicated. I’m actually kind of thankful that I was close enough to hear him. If I sat in the back not only would I not hear him but I’m sure I’d get more notes expressing the guy, Geoff’s love for me. He unfortunately spotted me in the group yesterday as Gabe threw stones at him. I received two beautifully written notes.

_Ill fuck u up if you do that again_

And

_Why do u think ur better than every1 u short emo fag_

I’m sure if I were to sit closer to him I’d get a lot more praise. I think his grammar will kill me long before he attacks me.

     When lunch comes around I decide to go hide as far away from the other people in this school I can. I go sit in the French literature side of the library. I don’t know why my school of about five hundred English speaking students has an entire corner dedicated to French literature but if it saves me from being shoved in my locker I’ve found my new home.

      “Mr. Iero, how nice of you to turn up today,” my chemistry teacher says as I take a seat at the bench in the back.

      “Sorry Ms, I couldn’t physically make it here yesterday,” I didn’t feel like explaining, also most of the class had now filtered into the room.

      “Don’t let it happen again,” she writes something on the board, “because you’ve already missed getting a partner for the projects. I’d like to have you do it on your own as punishment but that’s not safe. Everyone coats and goggles. Frank, you can go with Ray and Carl.”

     A guy waves frantically from another table. It’s the big haired guy who let me out of my locker.

     “Hey I’m Ray, are you any good at acid neutralisation?” he smiles extending a lab coat to me.

     I shake my head, “nope.”

     “Okay me neither but you’ll be better than Carl,” he nods towards a guy who has already fallen asleep, his lab coat half-closed over his letter jacket.

      “How does he get away with that?” I say putting on the massive coat.

      Ray shrugs, “Captain of the baseball team or something I’m not actually sure. I was afraid for my life today to handle acid and bases all on my own.” He hands me gloves. “Want to hold the thing or poor the other thing?”

     “I’ll pour the thing,” I smile and slip the gloves on. They’re massive.

     Chemistry class manages to pass without any serious injuries or accidents. We spilled some bleach on Carl’s baseball cap. It won’t harm him just left a lovely patch of melty orange on his red hat. Oh well.

     I manage to survive the rest of the day relatively okay, excluding the fact that I corrected Geoff a lot in English again. He was reading from Othello… it was so terrible I nearly cried. I’m pretty sure I’ll be crying for real if he catches me after school so as soon as the last class, French, is over I’m running so fast through the halls I skid into a glass pane.

 

I eat while doing homework. I know I have a lot and if I ate at the table like my mom begged me to I wouldn’t have made it outside before nine.

     Eight o clock to the second and I’m closing the door behind me. I see Gerard and Mikey standing on their boards in the middle of the street, dim orange light flickering and showing up the crevices in their faces. Mainly Gerard’s because I’ll be frank, he’s the only one I’m looking at. _Mental note never use that pun as a chat up line._

Mikey catches sight of me and skates over, Gerard in his wake. “Hey Frank wanna come skate?”

     I nod a little too ecstatically and follow the taller guys off down the road at a great pace. We skate through the park which is empty except for some middle schoolers spray painting an electricity box.

     At the library car park we meet Gabe, Pete and Bert all skating and trying various tricks. Someone has their phone turned over and are blaring AC/DC. We skate around for a bit and talk for a bit and then I skate home.

 

A little red square with a white one in it is flashing in the corner of my computer screen when I get home.

_Hey_

From Gerard. I smile stupidly at my screen. _Hey_ I reply, playing it cool.

_What’s up?_

_Nothing really, u?_

_Finishing maths. Fucking hate my maths teacher. I get nothing and I won’t even need it for my job._

_What job?_

_I want to be an artist. Like I draw comic books mainly…_

And this is how our conversation goes, until two am. We talk about his drawings and my guitar, his favourite bands and mine and complain a lot. He hates his math teacher, I hate my history teacher and we complain mutually about how some people shouldn’t be allowed teach. I don’t know if this feeling I have is the buzz you get when you have a friend or if you like someone so I just be polite and accidentally use the “let me be frank” pun. He sends back a _XD hahaha XD_ so maybe he’s not scared off… One can dream.

 

I feel incredibly paranoid all day at school. I opened my locker that morning and found twenty folded notes saying _guess which bell will bring a punch…_ Now if you can honestly say that doesn’t creep you out then maybe you don’t understand.

 _I shouldn’t correct the quarter back_ I tell myself over and over but come English I correct his pronunciation of “Iago” five times before I can stop myself.

     After school I’m not as fast out of the grounds as I’d like and get caught in the car park. Geoff and Carl pull me in behind someone’s massive pick up.

     “You made me look like an idiot again, Iero,” Geoff spits, droplets of his saliva actually landing on my face and I want to hurl.

     “And you poured bleach on my hat!” Carl hisses.

     “I wouldn’t correct you all the time if you could learn to fucking speak. Even your friend here who I only see at nap time can string a sentence!” Oh shit. Shut up Frank.

     Geoff’s eyes narrow and he aims a punch at my head, or where my head would be if I weren’t so short and capable of ducking a lot shorter. I dodge the first three punches aimed but kicks are harder to get out of the way of, especially when someone holds you in place. I get shoved to the ground and expensive Nike’s get forcefully shoved into my ribs.

    I cry out but they get another few kicks in before somebody shoves them away. “What the fuck are you doing, assholes, beating up a freshman.”

    “Fuck of Bryar,” one hisses, I can’t tell which, my eyes won’t open.

     “I think we’re done here anyway,” one growls. Probably Carl. He sounded a tad too articulate to be Geoff.

      I hear footsteps march off. A hand reaches down to take mine. I’m suddenly lifted to my feet where I waver unsteadily, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing.

      “Oh no!” I see a blurry image of a person running toward me and my tall saviour. “Oh god is he okay? Wait, is that Frank?!” The voice sounds like it belongs to my chemistry partner, Ray.

     “I don’t know who that is,” the voice of the guy who is holding both my shoulders.

     “My chemistry partner other than Carl, oh god it is!” I try to open my eyes but I only see a blur.

     “Ow, fuck,” I moan and try to make sense of the world around me. My ribs feel shattered and I think I’m bleeding from everywhere. “Thank you,” I mumble in the general direction of Bob, my saviour.

     “You’re a junior,” he says in a surprised kind of monotone. I nod and it hurts like a bitch. “oh.” Yea, Bob, I know, I’m small. “Want a lift home?”

      “Yea please.”

      “Shouldn’t we take him to the hospital?” Ray says opening the car door, or doors I’m not sure I’m seeing about six.

      “Too expensive, I’ll go home and sleep it off,” I force myself to say casually despite the fact that I think I may throw up my ribs.

      Bob guides me into the side of the pickup and I feel my way around the seat. “There’s no seat belt,” Ray says sitting in beside me and then Bob climbs in beside him. The three of us bump along the uneven road. Each speed bump sends a painful jolt through my torso and I’m getting more and more suspicious of whether or not I’m actually broken.

     Ray and Bob help me into my house and up the stairs. They say their goodbyes and drive off towards one of their houses’

 

I don’t go into school the next day. My mom is super concerned that I’m getting bullied here too but I tell her it’s okay and that I’ll talk wo the teachers or something and that she doesn’t have to intervene today. She also confirms that nothing is broken just really badly bruised. Like everything is bruised. My torso is an array of purples and greens and patches of yellow. Like an artist threw up on his paint tray.

     Friday morning I don’t feel much like going to school. I had told the skaters that I was beat up in the most macho way I could and they’re all swearing vengeance on the “Riverside stuck up assholes”.

     I was expecting their visit yesterday evening when they all piled into my match box room and poked around at my posters and records.

     What I really wasn’t expecting was them to all show up at half ten the next morning when my mom was at work. “Guys… what?”

     Gabe grins and pulls a bunch of pirated dvds out of his coat. “Every good zombie movie ever,” he grins even wider. Mikey and Gerard pull cans out of seemingly nowhere. I don’t even question it, just let them set up a zombie marathon in my living room. Gerard sits next to me on the small couch and the rest pile on the long one. The zombie movies were actually poor quality but I don’t even mind.

     And the best bit about the whole thing is how Gerard and I slowly sit closer and closer together that there is room for Pete to sit in with us too. The guys leave and I spend the rest of the day smiling and practising my demi plié across the landing.

     I manage to convince my mom to let me go to ballet that night. I say that it will mentally help my recovery or something.

     I almost immediately wished I’d stayed at home. I am literally the only guy there and the second shortest in the class. All the girls are en pointe and the ages range from fourteen to seventeen. I watch as the long thin woman in a black leotard corrects people’s positions and shouts at girls who do potentially dangerous movements.  After a half hour spent on movements at the bar we are sent pirouetting across the floor. The teacher, Adrienne, critics each movement each girl does. One girl does such a bad job that I accidentally laugh at her. “Think you can do better, fag?” the girl hisses.

     “Now, now!” Adrienne claps her hands, “none of that. Monsieur Iero, it is your turn.” I nod and begin. At first I can hear a few smug snickers but they quickly die out. I don’t know why I’ve just always been good at ballet and learn very quickly. This was my first pirouette since July and I’m worried it was rubbish.

     “Chin up Frank and see me after class,” the instructor calls. “Amie, your turn.”

 

After the class has filtered out Adrienne walks over to me, “You have much talent, Frank. I’d been watching you since the start mainly because you are a new student but also because I believe you to be a natural dancer. But your small frame makes it difficult to give you any male parts you see. How would you feel about dancing the same as my girls?”

     “Uh…” I don’t want to. I really don’t want to. How embarrassing would it be to go out in a tutu and prance about with those fourteen year olds who sniggered at my demi pointe movements? “Sure,” I find myself saying. What. No. “Actually em…”

     “I’m sure if you continue to show promise you could even take the lead,” she smiles.

     “Um am I the only guy here?” I mumble.

     “Yes.”  
     “Wouldn’t you need a guy to do the guy parts?” I sound incredibly needy just there.

     “Yes maybe, but I’m sorry you’re shorter than most of the girls.”

     “I could still well perform in a pas deux, or a fish dive or anything taller guys can do.”

     “We shall see next week, yes? Go home now and remember chin up and strength,” she pokes my stomach.

     My mom gives me a lift home and I tell her all about the fact that I’m the only guy and how I apparently impressed. I decide to keep the fact I was asked to dance as a girl to myself. As if ballet wasn’t feminine enough without me having to wear a tutu.

    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is quite a long chapter. If I don't update tomorrow I'm afraid I'll be quite absent because I'm going to an internetless island. If you want to read something else i have two completed fics here; "Drowning Lessons" and "All My Favourite Colours", if you'd like to check them out :)))))) thanks for reading ^-^


	4. Four

I spend most of the weekend out skating with the guys. Yea I’ve started calling them the guys. The paranoia of _but do they actually like me_ disappeared when Gerard called over to hang out Saturday evening without the others. The dude is a fucking amazing artist. We sat on my bedroom floor and he drew and gave out about his art teacher giving him a B because he was late handing in his assignment by ten minutes and how smug everyone in his class was. Then he showed me a drawing he had on his phone he’d done of Mikey. Then he got all shy and embarrassed and apologised for showing off and I told him it was okay and I could have kissed his beautiful blushing face there and then.

     But I didn’t because that would have been rash and would no doubt blow up in my face.

     So instead I just continue to sit on my bedroom floor with a guy I’d kill to fuck and give out about things.

     Sunday I had dinner out with my mom who was so overboard enthusiastic that I had friends. She had bragged to her friends back in Jersey that I was “flourishing” here, I had friends and was doing well at dance. She didn’t mention that I’m still getting beat up and that my friends are all in a different school.

     Sunday night I go over to Gerard and Mikey’s and drink enough vodka to sink a ship and stagger home. Probably not a good idea.

 

Definitely wasn’t a good idea. My alarm goes off at seven and the beeps pierce through my brain. The light that escapes my curtains set out to blind me. My head pounds like a stone mason is working away in there and my stomach feels like it wants to eject.

     And it gets it’s wish, I run into the bathroom after breakfast and throw up all I just ate.

     “Are you alright Frank?” My mom says as I slink out of the bathroom.

     “Just morning sickness. Mom I’m pregnant,” I try to sound light hearted, it comes out as a serious confession.

     “Right. You’re not missing any more school but if you get in the car in the next ten minutes I’ll give you a lift.”

     The school is full of people sporting the school colours of green and yellow. Its gross yes, and even more gross when you’re surrounded by a sea of it. I wade through to find my locker and get my things. I’m slightly later to math than everyone else and end up at the front again. A paper football hits me, rather hard, in the back of the neck as Mr. Roberts explains one of the homework questions no one understood on the board.

     _Why r u dressed in black emo and not suporting the school. Theres a baseball game 2day but u wouldn’t no that bc u weren’t here_

     Well that was a struggle to read. I look over my shoulder and see Geoff glaring at me and then getting distracted by something caught in his teeth. I hope the baseball game is against Gerard’s school but then again if I’m seen with the opponents there is no doubt Geoff will kick the shit out of me again.

     I sit in the corner of the stands, looking down at the baseball field, waiting to identify the opposition. The stands slowly fill, most of my class mates sitting around me but still keeping a safe distance from the guy dressed in black who’s glaring at the pitch.

     A crackling comes from the speakers that are dotted about the stands. The crackling is followed by ear piercing feedback. The combination of this and the sun is really not helping my current hangover. “Hello everyone. Ready for the friendly game between riverside rangers,” cheers, “and the Pencey Parrots!” a load of booing from around me. I can’t join in, I’m too delighted that we’re playing the guy’s school.

    A whole load of people in mixed colours and clothes march into a stand on the opposing side. I scour the mass of bodies for my friends. Surrounded by girls I see Pete. He isn’t paying attention to them but searching my stand. His eyes meet mine and he winks. A row behind him Gerard and Bert sit down and smile over at me, they’re wearing sunglasses, probably as hung over as I am.

     Then the teams pile onto the pitch. A coin is flipped and the two teams glare at each other and oh dear god Gabe plays baseball...

     We’re batting first and I see Gabe line up as pitcher. Carl stands at home base and does a little preparation gig swinging his bat in various directions. “Hey Frankie!” Gabe calls up at me and winks.

     The stand all turns around to see who Gabe is signalling. I look around too, no one needs to know I’m rooting for the other side. I won’t get beat up, yet.

     At half time I leave the stands in a state of delight. Gabe is actually whopping Carl’s ass in the only thing Carl is any good at.

     I meet Mikey down the back of the away stand. “If you could please thank Gabe for me for showing up that massive asshole” I smile.

     “Gabe hates baseball you know,” Mikey says, I raise an eyebrow, “yea he’s really good but only agreed to play so that he could beat the guy beat you up.”

     I go back to my seat grinning like a lunatic. I have friends and they’re the coolest people ever.

 

The game ends in a draw and a replay is decided for next Monday, same time. Carl stays awake for chemistry and glares at myself and Ray as we tackle hydrochloric acid. He would silently sit staring at the flasks of acid as if he was trying to will it to topple over on us. Randomly he’d ask if I knew the pitcher. I would deny it and he’d believe me for twelve minutes before asking again. Ray catches me on the way out the door to tell me that Bob has offered me a ride home. I know he’s trying to protect me from being beat up in the parking lot but I’m not going to be all manly and refuse. After school Bob and Ray escort me from building and into the pickup. Squished together we bump down the road calling Carl and Geoff various names.

     “It’s nice to see you not black and blue again,” Ray calls as I slide from the pickup, “want to sit with us at lunch tomorrow?”

     I nod violently. No more spending lunch in the French literature section.

     “Cool, see ya!”

     I walk in and do my homework. I can’t wait to praise Gabe for all his efforts in humiliating Carl.

 

I meet Bob and Ray at lunch the next day. I share no classes with Bob and only one with Ray. We get our lunches in the cafeteria and then leave to the hiding place of the school’s only cool people.

     Okay maybe “cool” isn’t the word to be used more “the school’s only people who don’t glare at me whenever I move.

     We go through what feels like miles of sports fields and end up at the back of the field hockey pitch. “the school holds about one field hockey training session a month so this is pretty much the most secluded place,” Ray explains putting his tray of now pretty cold food down on a picnic bench.

     Bob sits beside him so I sit on the opposite side. After about ten minutes of discussing what classes we have (Bob takes home economics huh) two other guys appear. “Hello! Oh it’s the new guy, Frank. Hi I’m Brendon and I’ll be running for school class president soon.” The guy from the secretary’s office says smiling. “I hope to be the first Mormon to achieve this.”

     “You’re the only Mormon in the school, ever,” the other guy sighs.

     They sit and all have a lengthy discussion on something I don’t follow, I smile and nod. By the end of lunch all I know is that Brendon is younger than me and the model student. The other guy, whose name was never mentioned shares two classes with me and that Bob and Ray share my music taste but they are keeping that secret by wearing band shirts under jackets because this is a closed minded school. I think I’ll follow their example tomorrow if I can find some form of jacket that isn’t black or with Metallica or Iron Maiden or The Misfits printed on it somewhere.

   

The school week passes without much pain on my part physically. Bob has this strange asshole repellent that no matter what people don’t bother me when he’s around. I showed Geoff up in English by reading out an answer he had also just read out and the teacher said, “Geoff, you seem to not be improving grammatically at all, maybe you should ask Mr. Iero for some tips.” And then again the day after by arguing with his really boring opinion on the Sylvia Plath. He grabbed my elbow in the hall and shoved me hard into the lockers. It hurt a lot but not as much as it would of if Bob hadn’t shown up and told him to fuck off. I survived without getting locked in a locker or beaten up again.

     At last it’s Friday and I get a lift home Bob, Brendon and the dude whose name I still haven’t been told. This time as Ray stays longer in the school with some club. Either debating or band or swimming. We don’t ask for a reason I haven’t asked about.

    “We’re all coming back to mine Frank, if you wanna com,” Bob says before cursing someone in a Chrysler minivan that just pulled out in front of him. “We’re going to play video games and eat pizza if you want to come over? Ray’ll be around later too.”

     Every head, that is so close together the whole #nohomo thing went out the window like Brendon’s apple core, turns and looks at me.

     “Thanks for the offer Bob it means a lot but I have something on tonight so I’ll have to pass this time,” I say nervously.

     “It’s cool, what’re you doing?” Every eye feels like it’s burning through me. _Ballet. I’ll be prancing around on demi pointe_ “Oh my mom has roped me into this neighbourhood thing.” They all nod and mutter “yea” or “mothers”.

    I dress for ballet and start on my homework. My phone lights up. _Out tonight??_ From Gee.

 _See ya at nine?_ I reply smiling down at my phone. The reply pops up immediately making me giggle at my desk. _Yup yay_

     I could here Pete’s “hah gaaaay” in the back of my head. Correct Pete, correct.

     Ballet is brilliant. We spend the whole class doing leaps. All the girls around me being screamed at for landing in ways that supposedly will leave permanent damage to their knees. I have no such problem but get my fair share of criticism as I attempt a leap from plié. “Frank! What on earth are you doing! Such locked joints! No fluidity! No elegance! This is a ballet school if you wish to jump around like that start wrestling or hurdles!”

     The last ten minutes of class are spent with Adrienne informing us that there will be try outs for the Christmas performance on Saturday morning and that everyone should attend. That there are two lead parts and the production is an adaptation of beauty and the beast. “No gender normalities here so you all may try for male and female parts.” She beams her eyes focused on me. I don’t care I’m trying out for the male lead, not for Belle.

     I meet the guys at the library once I had changed from my ballet clothes.

     “Hey Frankie!” Gerard smiles skating over to me. Everyone else greets me after doing whatever it is they were doing.

     “Pete got the perfect Ollie earlier, on the bench,” Bert says when he skates by me after doing a 360 off the wheelchair ramp.

     “There used to be a rail there but we got really drunk and pissed off one night and decided to get rid of it,” Mikey says following my eyes to the ramp.

     “What? Really?” I say, quite shocked.

     “Yea we’re way stronger when we’re drunk and don’t realise what we’re doing till it’s done,” Gabe explains skating over the ramp.

     “I’ll be Frank, I never thought you guys to be strong,” I say, cursing myself for, yet again, using that goddam pun. No one makes any indication of being sick of it yet.

     We skate half the night away and then they all come back to my house. Not quite “in the mood” to go home. Really I think they wanted to raid my fridge because I’d made the mistake of telling them my mom had made trifles. We sit around my kitchen gossiping like old women for over an hour, eating trifle.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must apologize now because i'll be out in the middle of the Atlantic now for three days and won't be able to post the next chapter until I come back /.\ it's almost written but won't be ready to post again today anyway sorry :(


	5. Five

“Frank Iero.”

     I walk into the front of the hall. Sitting before me is Adrienne and some middle aged women who were going to decide whether I’d get to be a dude or not.

     “Begin,” Adrienne says, pen poised above her score sheet. I start with my solo movements, conscious of my control and my flow. After my final arabesque a small thin woman joins me as I prove myself capable of being a _guy_ partner. We work against each other and with each other in a series of movements ending with a fish dive. It takes all my strength to not drop her on her face and all my will not to show that.

     “Thank you very much Frank,” Adrienne says scribbling something. I let my partner stand. “We’ll be in touch.”

     And that’s it. I walk from the room, past the crowd of nervous girls and into the car park. My mom is in Walmart so I decide to go find her. The adrenaline of the try outs kept me awake but now that I have no real reason to be awake, my body decides it wants a nap. I find my mom’s car in the parking lot and lie down on the back seats. I black out at some point and don’t wake till my mom whispers, “Frankie, we’re home.”

 

Math is my only class before the replay today. Geoff sends many sweet messages riddled with grammar errors about how my boyfriends’ better be prepared for a beating. He’s seen me with the guys before. For _the_ first time I decide to reply _would you like to join the homosexual polyamorous relationship?_ He doesn’t reply, possibly he didn’t understand but equally possible he’s too angry.

     I sit with Ray and Bob in the stands. “Carl broke up with his girlfriend Alison because she was caught cheating on him,” Brendon says sitting down behind us with nameless guy. “He’s really sad and angry so this’ll be fun.”

     I glance down at Gabe and Carl waiting for the coin toss. Gabe is pitching first and winks at Carl who refuses to shake his hand.

     By half time Gabe got two home runs and the away team is killing us. Hiding my delight, badly, I skip down to the away stand where I’m supposedly going to the bathroom. “You’re murdering us,” I smile at Pete and Mikey who’d sidled down to meet me.

     “With that smile you sound like a psycho,” Pete laughs.

     “I’m worried about Gabe,” Mikey says scowling out to the field, “He’s such a show off and your pitcher seems even more pissy than usual… Just don’t want him to beat Gabe up.”  
     I feel my face fall. He’s right. As much as I love seeing it, these guys don’t deal well with getting shown up. And if Carl just got dumped…

     “Tell Gabe to ease up a bit. He can win but he doesn’t have to hit a homerun every time,” I say. Mikey and Pete nod and go off to find our friend just as Gerard and Bert arrive. “Hey guys.”

     “Hi,” they say in unison. “What’s up?”

     “Just congratulating your school on your doubtless beating of my school and its king jerk,” I smile at them.

     “Is the quarter back guy not king?” Bert asks smiling evilly.

     “Nah he’s more Princess Jerk.”

     After only five minutes of joking around I have to make it back up to Ray, Brendon, nameless guy and Bob. They all look confused. “What I don’t get is how this guy is obviously our age but this is the first time he’s ever played,” Ray says, his brow furrowing, “and he’s not new because I’m pretty sure we were in the same middle school.”

     “Oh yea, Gabe has always lived here,” I say casually sitting down, “He just hates playing baseball.”

     Every eyebrow disappears behind bangs except for Ray’s which just elevates to a superior placement on his forehead. “Um, yea, I’ve spoken to him before, he, uh, doesn’t like baseball but is very good and uh he wanted to try again…” I admit I’m shit at stringing sentences together when I’m being stared at like this.

     “Oh,” nameless guy says. Then all the players return to the field and we begin again.

 

Carl spends chemistry awake and glaring. He lost the game very badly. Gabe eased up on the showing off but Carl made a whole load of mistakes himself that served to have him look like a terrible player. At one point Gabe only ran to first base even though he could have run home, trying to let Carl dignify himself only to have him throw a ball straight to the next player’s bat. Pencey’s worst player scored a homerun.

     Now Carl sits fuming in his letter jacket. Rumours have it that he’s going to lose his spot as pitcher when the season starts thanks to that beautiful display of suckiness.

     We’ve just successfully made salt and water out of acid and base when a pretty girl sways over to our bench. She has long dark curly hair and is wearing a green dress with a letter jacket over it. She pulls the jacket off and tosses it at Carl. Ray dives at the flask of acid and kept it from spilling on Carl. “You should probably take this. It’ll be your last memory of both me and baseball. Don’t jerk off over it,” she twirls around and struts back to a bench where a blond girl is smirking. Her perfume remains like a ghost in her wake.

     Carl lets out a growl like noise and stomps out the door. Our chemistry teacher jumps in shock and then runs out the door after him. “That was Alison, who just broke up with Carl,” Ray explains. I look up and see the girl laughing with her partner. She tosses her hair and catches my eye. I try to look away but she holds my gaze. She says something to the blond girl and walks back toward our bench.

     “I’m sorry if my big mean ex almost spilled your chemicals,” she practically purred. “I’d hate to hurt you in any way just because you got in the way of a big brash idiot.”

     “It’s cool,” I say. I wasn’t exactly going to flirt with Carl’s ex. Plus I had my mind trained on Gee for that.

     She starts twisting her hair around her fingers. “You’re new and I don’t think we’ve met. My name’s Alison.”

     “Frank.”

     “Where are you from Frank?”

     “New Jersey.”

     “Oh a city boy,” she giggles. I obviously show no reaction to this. “You’re in my English class aren’t you city boy?”

     “Uh yea I think so.”

     “You’re sooooo good,” she smiles up at me. Despite me being smaller I’m looking down a degree at her because she’s leaning against the desk and looking up. Her eyelashes fluttering against her cheek. “I heard you read Othello. I think it’s very important for a man to be smart.” I don’t know how to reply, she continues. “You could’ve thought my ex something I think. He’s not terribly bright. I like it when guys are smart, Frank.”  
     “Couldn’t tell by your previous choice,” I mutter.

     She laughs, “You’re very funny Frank.”

     Carl storms back in followed by our teacher. She says for the class to start cleaning up now. Carl marches back to our bench. “What’re you doing Alison?”

     “Just talking to Frank here. I’m having a party on Friday, Frank would you like to come?” She smiles her eyelashes fluttering.

     “I thought you’d cancelled it!” Carl bellows.

     Alison smirks, this is obviously the reaction she’d been looking for. “Nope, it’s still on, you’ve just lost an invite.” And with that she glides back to her giggling blond friend and begin carefully pouring out their failed concoction.

     “What the fuck is your problem Iero!” Carl shrieks and kicks over his stool.

      I can’t find Bob and Ray after classes that day. I search from the stairs because on the floor I can’t see over the waves of people all dressed in school colours.

      I grab my books and decide to try meet them in the car park. I realise the second I’m in the parking lot that this was a very bad idea.

      “That’s the asshole who was flirting with Alison,” a voice growls from behind me. Before I can think or run I’m being yanked behind a piece of outcropping wall. Geoff holds me against the wall between two massive bins. “What the fuck were you saying to my ex Iero?” he punches me in the stomach before I can answer. The blow winds me. “Well?” I can’t answer due to the fact my abdominal muscles are only now peeling off my spine. He punches me again. “Don’t try flirt with my girl. I’m going to be back with her by the end of the week so just stay the fuck away.” He punches me again and then Geoff lets go. I slump to the floor, gasping. My head lying against a trashcan I see feet shuffling off toward the parking lot.

 

Ray and Bob find me after a while. Ray gasps various concerns and Bob curses Geoff and Carl. Neither of them give out to me for not waiting for them where we’d met every time before. Between them they carry me into the almost bare car park and toward Bob’s pickup. At home they help me into my room where I pass out on my bed.

     I wake to a knocking on my door. My eyes fly open and I see Gerard standing in the open doorway. “Your mom let me in,” he says looking down. “I can’t believe they fucking got you again.”

     “It’s okay,” I say, wincing as I pull myself upwards. “This is what happens when you flirt with the baseball captains ex.”

     Gerard looks taken aback, like I’d just said something really hurtful. “Um I mean he thought I’d been flirting with her… I hadn’t though. And I won’t because I’m not attracted to her. Not that she isn’t uh hot just…”

     Gerard laughs, “I getcha Frankie don’t worry. Want to hang out? I came to see if you wanted to come skating but I don’t think you should.”

     “Yea.”

     We sit on my bed then and listen to music then for a few hours and then Gerard goes home.

 

I go to school the next day with only half the homework done. Despite the fact that I’m sitting, yet again, right under Mr. Roberts’ nose, he doesn’t spot me scribbling in French in a copy under my maths books.

     At lunch I’m horrified to find Ray and Bob have gone on a surprise class trip to some historical field. I get lunch and make a B-line for the French literature section. I’m out of the cafeteria line and almost out the door when I’m stopped.

     “Hi Frank,” Alison smiles. Fuck.

     “I’m sorry Alison I’ve got to go.”

     “Where?”

     “This way.”

     She giggles. “Oh Frank you’re so funny. Why don’t you come sit with me?” She smiles and touches my arm.

     I jerk away from her touch. “What’s wrong Frank, have you got a girlfriend or something?” She frowns.

     “No-”

     “Then what’s the problem?”

     For some reason a whole load of anger wells up inside of me _FUCK HETRONORMALITY_ “Go back to your fucking pitcher and leave me alone.” I growl.

     I see her expression go from flirtatious to menacing in the blink of an eye “You’re a fag aren’t you.”

     “Just because I don’t want to fuck you doesn’t mean I’m gay,” I say matter-of-factly. Even though in truth I’m not the straightest pole on the street she’s got to know that she can’t have anyone she wants.

     Her eyes narrow and she straightens up, taller than me again. “A pity you came out in such a homophobic school, Frank. And what a pity I heard because I know a lot of people and I know how to make a lot of people know a lot of things.” She smiles sweetly, steals a fry and skips back to a table full of girls in various stages of undress. I shudder and walk off to the library.

 

The fun begins straight after lunch. I walk through the halls listening to whispers as I pass, words like “gay” and “faggot” jumping out at me. We do theory in chemistry because a lot of the class is missing. By the end I have enough scraps of paper condemning my sexuality to keep a fire burning all millennia.

     I go to my locker after the last bell and find the word _FAG_ scraped in. How the fuck does Alison move so fast. I run straight home after school. Literally run because I’m afraid to death that Carl or Geoff will grab me again and there’s something in their manner that tells me they wouldn’t be the most excepting in terms of my sexuality.

    When I reach my bedroom the events of the day finally hit me. Adrenaline and stubbornness were keeping me sane and cool all school day but now it all becomes too much. I just lie on my floor, not exactly crying… well okay yea, I cry.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So um I'm back from the island... It was fun but i missed writing XD here's the next chapter :))


	6. Six

I really hate how no matter where I go people are assholes. Two schools and I manage to go to the one where everyone is homophobic (except apparently Bob, Ray, Brendon and the other dude whose name I still don’t know) and that no matter where I go the wrong people find out the wrong things about me.

     I went to ballet on Friday badly beaten up, I couldn’t afford to miss a lesson though. I managed most of it but then failed all my leaps. My legs were too wobbly and I fell over. Twice. To improve on the embarrassment some girl about two years younger than me videoed me landing badly and rolling over with pain. I was covered in still visible bruises and my shins were so badly grazed that stretching in certain ways stung so much that for the video it also looks like I’m crying. I had to bribe this fourteen year old kid with eight fifty every week not to post it on YouTube. The pretty little freshman with dark curls reminded me disturbingly of Alison. I bet the little fuck is related to the bigger fuck.

     I hang out with Ray and Bob on Saturday after the open practice in the ballet school. We sat in Ray’s basement and played various games that were released in the early nineties that had pixels the same size as me and ate this really cool Spanish thing Ray’s mom made. I meant to ask them the guy’s name but I’d forgotten till I was in my mom’s car on the way home. Gerard came over for dinner that night.

     Not on purpose.

     He’d skated over asking if I wanted to come out with him and the guys when my mom had forced lasagne on him. I had said “I’m eating now I’ll be out later,” when my mom rushed in the hall with a steaming dish of lasagne and begged him to eat the spare portion. I know my mom just wanted to meet my friend to ensure I guess that I had some.

     I was half way out the door when my mom yanked me back in. She said it was to make sure I had a jacket but when Gee was out of earshot she whispered; “you two would be cute together,” and sent me on my way.

     Gerard and I skated through the park. It was dark now and getting chilly. We arrive to find all the guys standing around a burning thing. It’s so badly charred and engulfed in flames I have no idea what it is. It could have been a dead animal or it could have been a stick. Knowing these guys it was probably a school book.

     Gabe stands up tall and flings a small box at Gerard. “Piss on this.”

     I look down at the box and read _not only tells you if you’re pregnant but how far along you are._ “What?” Gerard says smiling at the guys.

     “Go piss on that stick. If you’re pregnant I get Mikey’s board,” Gabe explains. Gerard laughs, rather uncomfortably, and walks off to pee on the stick against a tree.

      Pete skates around me and proceeds to tell me the story of the pregnancy test. “Mikey said Gee’d gone to get you and when you two didn’t arrive after like ten minutes we decided that you were probably impregnating Gerard,” I laugh uncomfortably. Pete continues, “So we skated off to Walmart and got a pregnancy test and this box of tampons,” he kicks the smouldering thing, “So we rolled dice Bert just, like, had, and Mikey had to go up to the counter to pay for these two fucking contradictory things while applying lip gloss Bert also just had. I think I can say for us all I’ve never seen such a fucking confused cashier. To top it all off Mikey puts on this high girly voice and says “thanks doll” and walks off like Miss United States then afterwards.” I laugh with the guys. I’d love to have seen that but unfortunately I was trying to not be awkward at dinner with Gerard and my mother.

     Gerard skips back to us. “It’s processing…” he mumbles and we all huddle around the piss stick and for a second it feels like we’re all actually hoping the stick will declare Gerard to be babyless.

     “I don’t know how Gerard’s supposed to be pregnant if the father is still a virgin…” I muse and then immediately wish I hadn’t said it out loud.

     “What makes you think you get to be the dad?” Gerard moans.

     “Really guys,” Mikey laughs.

     None of them make fun of my virginity, that’s… amazing.

     “The result!” Gabe squeals, _+    five weeks along,_ we read and all burst out laughing.

     “You can keep your board,” Gabe gasps, “As a present for becoming an uncle.”

     We skate around the pregnancy test then. Gee falls trying to do some weird ass flip and Gabe gasps, “MIND THE BABY FOR FUCK SAKE!”

     I skate home that night with the Ways, making pregnancy puns and jokes with Mikey. They all suck. My personal favourites are _don’t be such a womb-man, you should listen to in-utero_ and _can we drink your vodka so we can all have morning sickness._ After a while Gee just gave up on trying to get us to stop and me and Mikey just sent shitty jokes back and forth till Gerard went into his house.

 

I hung out with the guys all Sunday too. We skated literally around the whole town and ate frozen pizza at Gabe’s for lunch. We managed to burn the pizza while having bits of the dough raw. That is talent.

     My mom just makes me uncomfortable by asking me questions about Gerard. “Do you like like him?” and “would you like to have him over” and more things that make me go red and tell her to “Just leave it”

     And then Monday comes and purgatory begins. So I was actually in good time for school and walking in the front door when I spot that girl who videoed me standing amidst other freshman with an expression that looks like _my shit is better than you_ as she watches me sulk down the hall in search of Ray and Bob. I can find neither so I go back to my locker and try get my stuff for the next few classes. Nothing like getting shoved into your locker first thing in the morning. I’m sure people saw me get neatly folded up and placed in my metal container but no one decides to help me out until Ray runs past as the last bell goes and frees me. “Who did this?” Ray sighs helping me up.

     “Carl and Geoff,” I say dusting myself off, “let’s go to class.”

     I run down the same corridor as Ray only he leaves the emptying hall four doors before I do. I burst into geometry at the exact same time as my name is called for the role. That would’ve been cool if I wasn’t gasping and didn’t trip over a chair.

     I got the uncomfortably close seat, again. I think I’ll just give in and make this my permanent residence. I’m beginning to shape the seat to my body anyway. I get lots of interesting notes from my love, Geoff, asking if my boyfriend helped me out of the locker and if I wanted him to get me a dude dildo. Eww.

     I avoid everyone as much as I can. At lunch though it’s really hard to escape everyone when there’s only one source of food. I now fully understand why lions hide by watering holes.

     Alison strides up to me as I stand in a long queue for some gross food. “Heya Frankie,” she smiles, eyes glistening, “guess what I have.”

     Before I can answer she pulls out a white iPhone. On it plays a muted video of me failing at ballet. My heart takes a swan dive. “How?” I mutter uselessly. I know how of course.

     “My sister says you’re a ballerina, Frankie. Not very manly is it. And definitely not very punk,” she giggles, “you know how popular I am on social media Frank? Very. I could make this viral. I know my boys here won’t think too highly of you and your skater friends might lose whatever respect they have for you.”

     I’m being skipped in the line but I can’t move. Alison continues, “But of course I’m not about to completely ruin your life because that’s just bitchy. I won’t use this video unless I have to, Frank, and I’m sure you’ll be co-operate and help me not use it.”

     I stare up at her. She flashes a white smile. “I’m back with Carl again and I don’t think he’ll be too happy to see me with you so much so I’ll leave a little explanation in your locker. Bye Frankie.”

 

I run away. I leave the cafeteria and make a B-line for the French literature section. I squeeze into a corner between book shelves and take out my phone. I open up the text box but then close it. I can’t text Gee, what’d be the point. _A girl is being mean to me because I’m a small emo faggot who can’t dance for shit and will probably end up with no friends again really soon. Ps. I’d blow you and you wouldn’t even have to blow me back xo –Frank._

     I, obviously don’t send that. My life is near enough its end anyway, without making Gerard think I’m a total loser.

     The French literature section is nice, honestly. I can’t pronounce 110% of the titles and have no interest in it anyway but at least the books won’t beat the shit outta me or shove me in a locker. Or worse, threaten to show people my failed ballet. After lunch I skulk out around what’s basically the school’s back alleys until I find my class.

      Ray doesn’t ask about my whereabouts at lunch, just thanks me for not being beaten up. Carl sleeps through chemistry and Ray and I practice balancing origami things on him. We finished our practical work really fast somehow and spend twenty minutes of the class balancing paper boats and swans on various parts of the slumbering jock.

     After school Bob meets me outside my classroom and escorts me to my locker. I grab out my coat and math text book from the metal container which shouldn’t be able to fit me in it. I move my copy of Othello and see a note folded on lined pink paper. _Frankie xo_ is scrawled on it like an angel wrote with their left hand.

     I shove it in my pocket getting a quizzical eyebrow raise from Bob. That’s the great thing about Bob, he never blatantly asks questions, just assumes you’ll tell him anything that’s for him to know. My respect for Bob is like a million miles above my self-respect.

     Bob, my guardian angel, drives me home and he and Ray wave to me as they drive off.

     I put a slice of toast in and unfold the little pink note, flattening it against the table. A smell of stewed flowers and chemicals rises from the paper. A bit too sweet to be nice. _Dearest Frankie, I’d like to ask you to do me a favour by Thursday. I need you to put staples in Geoff’s jock strap for cheating on Madison, Love Alison xoxo Ps. I have everything ready for uploading if you don’t quite make it._

     Well shit.

      I do my homework distractedly. I spend a long time writing my English essay because I have to pause every few minutes and cross out lines such as _Othello didn’t know what to do because everyone around him was a bigot pig_ and _no one accepts people for who they are, black or gay._ I scribble the gay out especially well because no knows I don’t need to accidentally say that in class.

      I leave with Gerard and Mikey as soon as I can and try to align my thoughts. No I can’t tell them. No I can’t say some bitch is threatening me with my own secrets. No. No, no, no.

     I end up skating around nervously with a voice that’s on the edge of screaming and crying and laughing. “Are you okay?” Pete asks after I nervously laugh at nothing.

     “Yea just have an exam tomorrow,” I say and they all nod muttering things like “that’s the worst”. Nope, exams are not the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Othello one can see judgement based on race, not on the quality of the person. People claimed rotten things about Othello because he was black when really he started out as a way better person than most. This may be fan FICTION but judgement based on religion, race and sexuality are still here and it pisses me off. That's why I decided to Incorporate this Shakespearean play into the story line... that and I love Shakespeare XD let me know what you think :3


	7. Seven

I sneak into the guys locker rooms at lunch. No one’s in there, they’re all in the showers. I would have tried this earlier but he was wearing it literally four minutes ago. I got his locker number and combination on Wednesday. This morning, though, we had a random assembly about bullying and the entire student body stared innocently up at the principle, and I never got the chance to sneak down to the locker rooms in the morning. Instead I had to wait until now, when I have about five minutes before steaming muscly guys materialise from the showers.

     The locker groans like a whore and a pile of sweat infused gym shorts fall out. Trying not to puke, I feel around the infectious pile until I find the gross white jock strap. I then begin to artfully staple an A into the fabric. I do it so the pointy bit faces the crotch. When I’m finished I shake some more staples into the actual thing for good measure.

     I push all the garments back into the “artfully colourful” red lockers and run as fast as I can for the squash courts where I plan on lying low until chemistry. No one in this school plays squash or at least no one uses the courts.

     The bell goes and I run up the stairs and around corners. Through halls and past doors that are finally beginning to look more familiar.

     Despite my athletic efforts I’m late for chemistry. Alison raises an eyebrow at me as I pull on a lab coat. I nod at her and she smiles gleefully, whispering something to the blond beside her. Ray, again asks me no questions but does raise his eyebrows when Alison slides a slip of folded pink paper to me as she reaches for a test tube. “Long story,” I mutter shoving the scented page in my pocket.

     Carl is asleep before I even have my lab coat on and only wakes up in time to have his homework handed back just before the bell. The sheet of shitty diagrams and scrawled answers is adorned with a big, red B+ in the corner. Carl may not be as dumb as Geoff but he isn’t the most intelligent either. In fact he’s the last person I’d suspect to get better grades than me in chemistry.

 

_Dear Frankie, Check your locker after class. I broke in. I need you to have Carl’s chem and math homework done by tomorrow morning. His math should be easy for you. If not you need to do it anyway because he has training and won’t get the chance. Love Alison xoxo._

Now I see why Carl does well in his homework, it’s because he doesn’t do it.

     Sure enough when I open my locker there’s extra sheets and copies on top of my coat, all of which fragranced in that sickly sweet, fake flower smell Alison sports.

     Bob gives me a lift home and I start on my homework as soon as I can. I already had a lot today. I’d, stupidly, left an essay till the very last minute so that has to be done today as well as two different sheets of math questions and two bouts of chemistry.

     I eat my dinner in my room at my desk as I scribble formulas and ponder over simple plot twists I can use in my essay.

     Gee arrives and my mom sends him up to my room where I’m still doing math. Carl’s maths is easier but it still takes a while to do. “A lot of homework?” Gee asks sitting back on my bed. I nod, punching numbers into my calculator and cursing under my breath.

     “I might not be out tonight,” I say scribbling down something I think Y might equal. Nope never mind, time to restart the sum. “I have a lot to do.”

     I can see Gee’s face fall in the reflection of my computer. “Want me to go or..?” Gee says shifting his seat.

     “I don’t mind. You can stay if you want it’ll just be fucking boring.” I say, it may take me longer still to do homework with Gerard there but fuck it.

     He smiles, “I’ll chill here then, if I’m not a distraction. I’m a bit tired for skating anyway.” He slides down the bed and sits on the floor. I stop paying attention to him then completely.

     This takes all my strength.

     I’m almost finished the second last math problem when my attention returns to Gerard. I’d almost forgotten he was sitting cross legged on my bedroom floor until he started humming. The tune is familiar…

     I start humming along too to _how soon is now_ by the Smiths. After a few bars we start singing. I turn away from the desk to see Gerard sitting on the floor singing and sketching. We get to the chorus but don’t go any farther because I can’t stop staring at Gerard’s drawing. It’s me and him skating but it’s like, really fucking beautiful…

     “Uh I draw a lot and um I drew us…” he looks really embarrassed. I don’t blame him, it’s awesome and I love it but man I’d be embarrassed too.

     “It’s fucking brilliant!” I smile to him. He seems a little less embarrassed but still has a radish complexion. I try to make things comfortable again, and fail, and talk shit for a bit.

     “I mean like, you’re very talented. Your voice is good too. I want to be a singer but you’re way better and yea I guess just better at most stuff…” Fuck this I’m going to go do my homework.

     I try to stand up but Gerard grabs my hand and yanks me back down. I land down half on Gee and his hands pull my face forward. Our heads collide in a way that could bruise but I don’t care because Gerard’s lips are on mine. We’re kissing on my bedroom floor. My thoughts blur and rationality leaves me. I think making out with someone you really like is like being drunk; everything just happens. You don’t even get the chance to think about it because your mind races on ahead and you’re left behind to just move your mouth against someone else’s.

     After an unknown amount of time we stop. I stand up unsteadily and look down at Gerard, still awkwardly lying up against my half price bed frame. I sit down at my desk and smile through the remainder of mine and Carl’s homework.

 

I slide into school the next day and glide through the halls. I’d gotten a text that morning from Pete _you’re gay, called it_ and one from Mikey _Bert and Gee used to go out btw._

Interesting, all this time I had no idea Bert or Gerard were attracted to dudes and there was I trying to act heterosexual. No need any more I guess. But still, I’m keeping the whole ballet thing to myself. You can be gay without being a total faggot.

     I unload my stuff into my locker and Alison strolls right up to me, takes Carl’s homework and strolls off as if nothing happened at all. Well jokes on Carl anyway, I spelt most things I could mentally bring myself to wrong…

      I sidle off to maths. I take my usual seat in the front. There are other seats available when I walk I’ve grown now accustomed to being able to hear the teacher. Geoff sneers at me as he walks past my seat but doesn’t say anything. Throughout the class he doesn’t send any notes to me either, maybe Alison has the athletic student body totally whipped.

     I survive through to lunch where I go outside with Bob and Ray and listen to them discuss something they were doing in geography. It begins to rain so we start walking back to the building. Ray claims to not be able to feel the rain through his hair and Bob makes several dry humoured jokes about it.

     Drenched to the bone I walk through the school with the two other guys and I feel like a normal teenager.

 

“Attitude!” Adrienne screams as the first group of girls attempt movements in time with each other. She shakes her head and motions them all back to the wall. “You must take your time. I don’t care if you think you’re being fluid at that pace you’re wrong! Again!”

     I see Alison’s sister roll her eyes and try again. She has a natural grace and perfect dance arches but she obviously never practices. One of those people who believe they’re born with it and that they’ll have the world served up to them.

    Thanks to her sister I naturally don’t like her. But she took the videos of me so she can’t say she’s innocent.

     I perform the two simple movements then. “Attitude! Frank come here and do that again, everyone watching.” I step up to Adrienne. I want to be good obviously but being the best when you’re new and a dude is just awkward.

     I perform it again in front of the whole class. Adrienne nods in approval and sends me back to the others. “As you see girls, it’s not simply good enough to be born with perfect arches and balance. You need more than natural ability and flexibility. You need practice. Again!”

     As the class picks up their things at the end and slowly begin to leave the room two girls maybe a year younger than me rush up.

     They look at each other and one nods to the other. “Eh, hey Frank. We were just wondering… Uh you’re good at brisé and we fucking suck and um we wanted to ask if you’d help us tomorrow…? You know, show us how or give us tips or something” The other one nods quickly.

     I smile at them, “sure, I’ll be here in the open class yea?”

     They nod and grin, “Thanks Frank,” the talking one says again and they walk off together at a bouncy pace. People have obviously stopped overlooking me because I’m a dude. Or at least those two.

 

October arrives in a flurry of rain, wet leaves and folded pink notes. I do an awful lot of extra homework. By the second week in October I know exactly how to do all of the remedial math course and am learning a lot of the chemistry course off by heart by doing it twice. I’ve pulled basic pranks on half the popular people, all of which have slighted Alison in some way or another. When Carly was out going on a mini break with her family I had to sneak fish into her locker because she got position of cheer captain not Alison. I poked holes in a guy called Gus’s condoms because he and his girlfriend Stacey had spread a rumour about Alison being pregnant and getting an abortion. I stuck pinecones in gym socks and threw gum socks on top of lockers. I’ve cut holes in jocks and locked people in gym closets while taping signs saying _you couldn’t grow some balls so you can wait with these ones till you do._ I’ve literally become the schools fucking ninja. I take back halls and empty stairways. I jump over tables and hide in classrooms. I’ve learned the art of flying around corners and into classrooms, leaving halls as if I was never there. But of all the ninja like super sneaky spy shit I mainly get left with the pitchers homework.

     The worst thing happened then. Alison and Carl broke up.

     They were obviously a match made in hell. Always fighting, always making the other one look stupid and always picking fights with the other’s friends. But this morning it all went terribly, terribly wrong.

     They had a massive argument in the car park that ended in Alison slapping the “ignorant, arrogant stupid jackass” across the face and ripping apart a sheet of paper he was holding. She stomped on the shreds in the puddle where it had fallen and swaggered into the school hall. I saw all this from behind Carl.

     I sidle around him in the rain. He’s making low, guttural noises and picking up the scraps of paper now destroyed with weeping blue and red pen. That’s the fuckers English homework I did to nights ago.

     The little fight in the car park was pretty bad, yes but nothing I hadn’t seen before. Alison will make me steal his towel while he’s in the shower or something and I’ll soon be back writing out his chemistry homework. Wrong.

     At lunch almost the whole school is in the cafeteria at the same time. I’m standing in the queue waiting for my turn to get some grey burger when Alison bursts into the cafeteria, double doors swinging in her wake. Her friend Madison pushes through after her with lipstick smudged and her hair a mess. You can see how everyone knew what had just happened. “Ali, I’m sorry,” Madison said making a grab at Alison’s hand. “I’m so so sorry”

     “Oh what the fuck ever Maddie, you can’t do that. Is there honestly not a single girl in this school who isn’t a back stabbing slut!” The room is silent now, staring at the two girls. Madison makes a pleading facial expression which only seems to encourage Alison to continue. “After how fucking upset you got when a girl tossed one of your million ex’s a flirty smile. How literally all the guys are “off limits” to me because you had your legs wrapped around there head making a fucking “deep connection” you fucking whore. All you know how to do is suck guys off so why don’t you go back to doing that and stop trying to suck up to me. You can’t now so go fuck off.”

     Madison bursts into tears and pushes through the now gathered crowds and out the door.

      “Oh fuck off,” Alison spits at random kids and stomps out a different door.

      I knew a storm of revenge via me would come of this but I really wish I could have more instruction as to what I’m to do. I unfold the pink piece of scented paper that was slipped in my locker. It’s tear stained and I feel suddenly very sorry for the girl who could potentially ruin my life. Scrawled across the centre in black ink is _Ruin Them._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's another chapter... Hope you enjoy it and despite some personal scares I had today I wont be taking down any of my fics. Thank you sosososo much for reading ^~^


	8. Eight

I do all my homework swiftly that night. I have ballet tomorrow and practice all day Saturday so I want to actually see Gerard at some point. We’re not a couple but we aren’t single either. I know I sound like a middle school girl “oh yea we have a thing” but that’s literally it. Since the guys found out we have thing we’ve been spending much less time alone. It’s like they’re really afraid one of us will get pregnant.

     “I’ll be back later,” I call swinging dinnerless out the door, board in hand. I skate down the road and meet Gerard and Mikey on the street. Mikey shakes his head and skates ahead, almost falling off when he hits a curb a little awkwardly.

     Gerard starts talking about something but I for some reason can’t concentrate on what he’s saying. It’s a concept for a cartoon or a comic but his words aren’t computing. My mind won’t let me focus in on anything now because it’s just remembered that tomorrow I have to try ruin the lives of two popular people without, like, dying.

     We skate through the park as I continue to try hear Gerard over the sound of my brain screaming _YOU’RE FUCKED._ I nod and smile at something Gerard just said to make himself laugh.

     I force a laugh that sounds like a mauled cat. “Frank you okay?” Gerard mouths, well says but it’s not really passing the block of panic in my ears.

     I nod and start shaking like mad. Okay I’m not okay.

     Gerard stops skating and pulls me off my board. I stumble off a bit and Gerard pulls me into him. My lack of balance knocks me and him unto the grass where I continue to shake violently. Gerard might be saying something, he might be saying nothing.  I can’t hear anything still but my breath is becoming restricted. I always get nervous or panicked before doing one of Alison’s tasks but man this one…

     Carl could probably kill me. Very easily just punch me hard enough. Madison, other than Alison, is the most influential person in the school. Not only do all the girls, almost, revere her but all the guys drool over her and would do anything for her because she would then sleep with them. And then if I fail Alison has amo and some. She also has a photo of me holding girls legs and videos of me poking them to check their stability. Of course I look like a sexual predator but I was really just helping them with positions that are too hard. I said this to her and she slapped me giggling “pervert”.

     My ballet life is just screwing me over. I got the male lead in the Christmas performance but what good is that if you’ve died of shame prior to the show.

     Gerard strokes my hair. He might be saying something soothing or cooing but I can’t hear him still. My body continues to shake violently but very slowly my breath returns to my own realm of control. I concentrate on each shaky breath coming in and out being full. I don’t really see anything I don’t think. I’m not even terribly aware of the fact I’m lying on Gerard.

     A length of time passes and my breath is almost fully in my power again. I’m shaking but its more tremors than dangerously strong quakes. I can hear Gerard now. He’s muttering “It’s okay Frankie,” in different tones and at different speeds with different length intervals.

     After a while I push myself upright and stare down at Gee who’s still lying down. “Are you okay?”

     “I’m okay now,” I say, a little shaky.

     “Want to talk about it?”

     “No”

     “You sure?”

     “Yes.”

     “Okay,” he sits up. And that’s it. He doesn’t ask again but tosses a few worried glances at me every now and again. We skate toward the library then in silence.

 

The weekend drags on painfully. I dance all Saturday and then go out to dinner with my mom in a “fancy” restaurant that had a dress code of no shorts. I wasn’t aloud out that night because we had a fight in the way home, not my fault, and got to spend my Saturday night drinking bourbon on my own in my room. Yummy.

     I woke up with a hangover Sunday and had to clean the house because my mom’s co-workers were coming. I then had to wait around in weird ass clothes and be uncomfortably polite around men and women with stern expressions. When they left I had to clean again. By the time I could leave the house I was beginning to panic again and went to bed instead.

     Monday mornings are torturous. Not just because it signifies the beginning of another work week. Nor is it because they signify the end of a weekend. They suck because Mondays are days everyone hates them for their own reasons leaving the worst possible atmosphere dancing about and making it impossible to do anything.

     My reason to hate Monday is because I have two people to “ruin” and very limited time and resources to do so.

     I decide to not actually go to school today. Mom buys my feeling sick and leaves for work. I spend the rest of the morning sitting on the edge of my kitchen counter nervously waiting for it to be nine o clock. I throw my backpack over my shoulder and slip out the door.

     Thanks to Alison’s errands I know the school inside out. I know all the halls, all the back entries and all the cameras. I walk to school then when the clock strikes nine. It’s raining heavily just to add to the pleasure of my job.

     I slip in the school gates and take a wide birth of the main building, slinking instead around the pitches. I know no one will be training or doing PE right now because of the rain. I know also that every door will be unlocked around the back of the building. I climb in to the girls changing rooms, one of the parts of the school you can enter by low window and will have no cameras on you. I search the gym lockers until I find the one that belongs to Madison. I know it from accidentally opening it instead of some other girl who pissed Alison off. The girl is fucking vindictive. I take her bottle of _2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner colour protect_ expensive bullshit and squeeze a lot into the bin. I twist the bottle open and pour in a shit ton of black hair dye. It cost barely anything, no wonder all the skaters bar Mikey have dyed black hair. I close the lid and shake it well before putting it back in the locker. I know this will be enough to basically ruin Madison. She’s one of those girls who loves how they look and consider it to be their only good feature. I know it’s not true, I’m sure she has better qualities than blond locks but Alison doesn’t think that and neither does Madison which is what matters right now.

     I shove the dye into my bag and hope to god this will be enough. I hate messing with people that haven’t done anything to me. It was easy to screw with Geoff and some of the others but Madison had not only never done anything bad to me but was actually kind of nice. She apologised for skipping me at lunch once and insisted I go first. She lent me a pen in another class and picked up one of my books when Geoff slammed them out of my hands. Little things that make “ruining her life” a little harder.

     I walk into the guys changing rooms next. It’s much easier to screw with this asshole. I cut a massive hole in the crotch of all the pants in his locker. Then I get out a black sharpie and write _I SUPPORT LGBT RIGHTS WITH ALL MY HEART_ across the back of one of his jerseys. On the other, paler jersey I artfully paint a rainbow and write _I wish I was gay just so I could piss off the homophobes_ a quote by Kurt Cobain I know no one will get. I shove the things into the locker and run for the squash halls. My class has PE now so it’s not particularly safe to be out sick and in the locker room.

     I wait for about fifteen minutes after the bell. Anyone not in class… well they should really be in class. I sneak out of the squash room and up a back stair way no one seems to take. My school is a squat two story building with a labyrinth of halls. It’s like someone designed it so that rooms 111-119 are would contain a secret treasure only reachable from a staircase that sits between the squash courts. I’m so fucking glad that only one class takes place in room 111 every week and its advanced physics. I walk into the room and cross it to its other door that leads to a slightly more populated corridor, the one where Carl’s locker is situated.

     I’m so used to opening his locker and putting his homework in that nothing feels wrong.

     Out of my bag I pull pages of an English short story we had for homework. I replace Carl’s own one with my modified one. Carl’s would have been embarrassing enough but it won’t ruin him quite like this. This part of the “ruining” is probably the safest because there’s not a hope in hell that Carl looks over his essays before handing them up. Also the handwriting is the same awkward copied version I’ve been using on most of his essays. He can’t say that someone else wrote it. I feel quite proud of how that bit worked out to be honest.

     Eye on the time, I run straight from the main locker hall and out the front door, leaping gracefully past posters of Brendon’s head and even bigger ones of Alison’s. I jump over an over-turned trash can and dash out of the school. I don’t look back until I’m out the gate. It seems I haven’t been seen and if I was the person wasn’t bothered to chase me.

     With an exhilarating mix of guilt and adrenaline I walk home to spend the rest of day on the sofa.

 

I seem to have hit two birds with one stone with the hair dye, only one of the stones had just gotten in the way. The next day I see Madison’s golden locks had turned a dull black-grey where she’d obviously attempted to wash the dye out. She looks sad all day and wears loose fitting grey and navy clothes as if it wasn’t even worth dressing like herself anymore. Another girl, Ellie, who had never done a single thing wrong to Alison or myself had her strawberry blond hair dyed black too. She seems terribly distraught every time I see her and I feel full on terrible.

     Carl is a ball of fury. He glares at everyone all day. At lunch I see him training in _the I SUPPORT LGBT RIGHTS WITH ALL MY HEART_ jersey. The coach keeps him after training I see as I walk back toward the school with Ray and Bob and he looks so ashamed. “Even the coaches here are homophobic?” I ask incredulously as the coach pokes my words and shouts something.

     Ray nods. “Yea. Alison really knew exactly what to write on his shirt,” Ray laughs.

     Alison has taken every inch of credit. People seem to think that they’re either brilliant or cruel and those who think its cruel keep silent. Well except for Madison.

     “Really, Ali, Really?!” she screamed in the canteen. “I thought there was some good in you! Attacking everyone! Poor Ellie! You must know that I share my shampoo you mean, mean person. It’s like you’re at so paranoid that people might actually like you so you go and be a total bitch! Well guess what you have bad eyebrows! Oh yes you do, and you call me a whore but we all know you can be just as big a slut! You are a bitch, a whore, and a cow with bad eyebrows and no friends. I hope you lose the class president thing because you don’t deserve to win anything!” After this she ran, tears pouring, out the main door with Ellie in her wake.

     Alison just tosses her hair and continues to eat her salad. How could she be so calm? I’d be crying for fuck sake. I notice everyone at her table sneaking glances at her eyebrows. I’ll never get why girls are so protective over lines of hair over their eyes. I mean how can some people have nicer shapes there than others?

     English class though was the best. Our English teacher is pretty cool. “So I’ve corrected all the stories. Some very interesting plot twists, well done,” the task was to write a story about something unexpected, I’m pretty sure Carl aced it. “An interesting one on American football. Another good one set in the Spanish revolution, was that historically accurate?” a head shakes to my left. “Oh well it was nicely written. All of you followed the task very well. Though unfortunately not all the subject matter was appropriate for class, Carl. No doubt was it… not what I’d expect you to write… Indeed Carl the way you know when something is inappropriate for class is when you would be embarrassed to read it aloud.”

     “I wouldn’t be embarrassed to read it aloud Miss,” Carl says indignantly from the back. There’s some nervous laughter.

     “Carl… it is a highly inappropriate topic to write and possibly read aloud.”

     “Why is it Miss?”

     “Carl, as expressive as it was, porn is not appropriate for class.” The whole room bursts out laughing.

     “What?” Carl blurts standing up.

     “Sit down, Carl.”

     “I didn’t write that miss!”

     “I said sit down Carl!”

     The whole class is writhing with laughter. Alison catches my eye and nods approvingly through her laughter.

     “Is it a memoir?!” someone calls from the back.

     “I highly doubt it is,” the teacher says sitting down at the edge of her desk, “Carl has always expressed homophobic views, no?”

     With that the class laughs even harder. I knew gay porn would be a hit. Besides the combination of the gay rights gym clothes and the gay porn short story would really ruin his credibility. I find a note in my locker as I get ready to go home _Thanks._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long ass chapter here. I was going to make it even longer still but you know what the next bit can wait :3 I'm sorry for giving Frank a panic attack, that wasn't part of my plan but I can get very carried away when involved with a character... I hope I didn't offend anyone in the description or harm anyone in any way... Thank you so much for reading this much


	9. Nine

I have mixed emotions over the next few days. The class president campaign goes wild with Carl dropping out of the running the day he was nominated and Madison getting voted in. By Thursday it seems that Madison could win with her anti-Alison campaign, Alison could win with her anti-Carl campaign and Brendon could win because no one wants to vote for the other two.

     I swear to Brendon he has my vote and that makes him extremely happy for some reason.

     Everything seems okay but then again the year is tearing itself apart. Ellie and Madison are seemingly brought closer by the hair incident. Alison no longer has a closest friend but a group of people who hold higher school status than me and are probably afraid that she’ll destroy them. She also grows closer and closer with the seniors and starts going out with a baseball playing idiot from that year. She really has a distinctive type. Carl and Geoff shove me around more now but haven’t full on beat the shit of me because I’m never really alone. It’s all just a bad concoction of pissed off teenagers and tested loyalties.

     Thursday seems okay though so far. I got a B in my triangle pop quiz. I thought we may be finally moving on but I was gravely mistaken; there’s another two chapters of three sided fun.

     It rains through lunch so everyone’s in the lunch hall. Geoff grabs my chocolate muffin off my tray and Bob flies to his feet making intimidatingly blank expressions until Geoff put it back saying, “Calm it Bryar.”

     I play x’s and o’s on room 111’s white board then after eating because why not. “This is my physics room,” Bob muses as we walk in the normal door which is the only usable entry into the secret row of classrooms.

     “You do advanced physics?” I ask beating him at the basic game again. He nods and grunts.

     Back at the lockers I get shoved into mine and bang my head but am not folded in and locked away. It hurts but I may now make it to chemistry. I grab my books and a little pink note. I was really hoping my excellent work defiling Madison and Carl would like set me free but Alison is seemingly a fucking mad whore. She can’t actually get enough of other people’s pain.

     I wait till I’m home to read the note because I’m not alone till then. I unfold the scrap and its now familiar scent. _Monday Morning I am giving a speech and slide show about why I should win the campaign. So is Maddie and Brendon. Do something to theirs. Whether you will or not tell me by Friday 10pm so I can get the end of your social life set up ilysm_

Well fuck.

   

Friday I feel so sick. My head is spinning and I feel like I’m going to be sick. I convince my mom that I’m a-okay and can go to school. A day off would have been great _but_ not a hope was I not replying to Alison. I didn’t sleep last night at all, more blacked out for twenty minutes and waking up to a stomach ache like a tank trying to drive through my large intestine.

     The worst thing is, is once my mom thinks I’m okay she starts screaming murder at me for the empty vodka bottle I’d put in the recycling hoping she wouldn’t spot it. Of course, she did, and with her anti-drinking life policy I’m screwed.

     An angry Linda Iero is fucking terrified. She declares that I’m grounded for a month. That means I can go to school and ballet and that’s it until the end of November. Great. On top of that she’s taking my phone and laptop every day after six pm. Fuck.

     I stagger into school like a drunkard dizzy and sick and feel my way to my locker. I take the first three classes and am then sent home for breaking out in a fever.

     At home I start crying again and can’t stop because the tears are cooling my face. My mom comes home during her lunch break and takes care of me for twenty minutes before driving back to work.

     I have to Facebook message Alison with my reply. Yes or No. Potentially ruin my only friendships or potentially ruin my only friendships. What a choice. I guess what I’m really trying to decide between is whether I want to be directly responsible for being hated or not.

 

I can’t go to ballet Friday or Saturday because I’m still to fucking sick. Sunday I’m a little better but confined to my room because there’s nothing else I can do because of a bottle of vodka. I listen to a lot of misfits and play my guitar. I told the guys what happened and they’re all incredibly disheartened. Gerard had texted me all Saturday night saying he hopes I get better and he hopes my mom will give my phone back and he hopes I’ll be aloud out and he hopes we can make out on my couch. Of course all this lit up on my screen when my mom had my phone and I pray to any god that she doesn’t see some of them.

     Monday, unfortunately I feel fully better. For once my immune system has failed to fail me.

     I dress and beg my mom to let me stay home. She doesn’t listen. She seems really pissed off and I remember her big meeting thing today. My mom stresses about being late drives me to school with plenty of time.

     I get to put a few things in my locker when the whole school is motioned towards the auditorium. It’s dark except for a spotlight on stage. There’s a podium, a projector and three seats. Ray motions me over to a spot in the back by the glowing green emergency exit. It’s elevated so I can actually see over people’s heads.

     “Brendon has so much prepared,” Ray laughs. “Ryan’s gone up to the front to give him moral support.” Ryan! That must be nameless dude’s name.

     “A whole fucking slide show dedicated to his campaign,” Bob smirks.

     Once the hall is filled Madison leads the speeches with an inspirational one on how she’s going to get more salads into the cafeteria and make cheer leading more open to younger students. Apparently it already is open to them she just means she won’t glare at them when they try out. She takes her seat then to a round of applause and plays a short video of her touring the school giggling and stuff. One thing her campaign seems to have is low cut tops.

     After Madison, Alison stands up. I can feel my heart beat faster and my breath catch. I can still hear her speech perfectly. She says she’ll work in the best interest if her fellow students and all that bullshit. No one believes it but it’s always said. Then she says she’ll bring in better hand driers into the bathroom and more paper towels into the labs. After a lame curtsey and applause from the school the projector starts lighting up. It flickers like an uncertain beginning to my very certain end.

     Once it’s heated up it begins to play a slideshow of “things that need fixing” and “how Alison will fix them”. I can’t actually explain how relieved I am to see the shoddy hand driers up there instead of me. Another round of applause and Alison takes her seat making a smug expression in the direction of Madison. She scans the crowd as Brendon stands up and catches my eye. She sends another smug smile at me and winks.

     Fuck.

     I begin to panic again. Fuck this, fuck her, fuck ballet.

     Brendon confidently begins his speech talking about equality and the library. He moves on to topics of social situations he wants to fix. He begins his slideshow. First is a picture of Carl in the LGBT rights top and he speaks about how average students can help fight homophobia in the school. There’s some nervous laughter. Next there’s a picture of a really beaten up kid and Brendon talks about reassessing the schools anti bullying policy and how he’ll help stop the bullies.

     He clicks the button on the remote and the next slide pops up. A short gif of me, leaping and landing badly. I’m wearing my ballet clothes. Brendon freezes, stunned. The whole room roars with laughter as the words _Anti Loser Policy_ flash over the image in pink word art. All the laughter goes in and out of focus in my mind and I slowly hear less and less. Ray and Bob are looking at me and saying something I can’t hear.

     Brendon shakes himself and clicks the forward button. Every slide features a picture of me dancing or failing to dance. In the mix is a picture I’m sure I had deleted from Facebook of me making out with a guy. The halls cries of laughter increase and I see Brendon desperately trying to silence everyone and end the presentation.

     He could have exited it, or turned it off but instead he tried to forward through them all to the end. My heart sinks with every picture. Some of them are fucking old. There’s one of me, age eleven standing proudly in a tutu. That was the last time I’d played a female part in a ballet show which had just ended in tears and humiliation.

     The end finally arrives with the slogan in big pink word art _Vote for Me If you want to end gay losers being faggoty._

Brendon looks so horrified that he forgets to turn the projector off. By now a teacher, my English teacher in fact, was on the stage turning off the projector and telling everyone to quiet down. She sends the students off stage and my principal walks on and begins giving out.

     He’s barely audible over the laughter and the sound of everyone turning around in their seats to get a better look at me.

     Some freshman catches sight of me and starts clapping and pointing. Soon most of the school has followed their example. I don’t think I’m crying but it’s really hard to tell. I stand up still in panic and run for the emergency exit. I run out into the rain and slam the door. Once in the rain I’m pretty sure I start crying. I get soaked through and just sit on the ground for a minute facing the baseball pitch. I can still hear the chants and laughter muffled inside. They die out and I can hear the muffled voice of the principle giving out to the students. I stand up shaking, still trying to control my breath. On unsteady little legs I start walking toward the school gate. The emergency exit door opens and I hear a female voice calling, “Frank? Frank will you come in out of the rain.”

     Without turning around I shake my head and start jogging through the rain. I don’t stop jogging until I’m at the turnoff for my street. I walk, dripping wet, through the rain and past the houses. What’s the point in living in this town if I have to be like everyone else? What’s the point in living in this town at all? What is even the point of living?

 

When I get home I lie on the ground in my hall soaked through. My phone lights up with texts from Ray and Brendon. _Dude it wasn’t me, I’m so sorry man I swear I didn’t know, oh god I’m so sorry_ from Brendon. _Hey are you okay Frank? , we don’t care if you do ballet, Brendon is really sorry man_ from Ray.

     I force myself after about half an hour to go upstairs and change out of my soaked clothes. I dry off and turn on my computer. It opens Facebook. I guess seeing the extent of the damage is nessescary now.

     29 notifications, well fuck. _Geoff Sanders and 12 other friends like a video you were tagged in. Alison Whyte added fourteen new photos with you. Alison invited you to like her page “Hardcore Ballet Fag”._ They all were something along those lines. Every photo on that presentation was now all over Facebook. Loads of people liked them and that number is bound to grow as people log on tonight.

     I go on to the Facebook page dedicated to me. _Hardcore Ballet Fag_ was really an interesting title. An oxymoron in fact because how the fuck can ballet be hardcore? I scroll through the masses of pictures of me. It’s kind of fucked up how Alison could have possibly got her hands on some of those pictures. I sigh a shaky breath and turn off the computer. I don’t know how I’m ever going to recover from this.

     My mom comes home and gushes to me how sorry she is and that the school called her and how she hopes I don’t feel too down. “No mom, I feel just fine now that my life here is ruined after two months. It is November tomorrow, let’s see if it can get much worse by Christmas,” it’s hard to be sarcastic when your voice shakes. Oh well.

     “I guess we could see if you could move schools…” my mom says hugging me close, “but I don’t think anywhere excepts you in in the middle of term. Do you think you could survive till after Christmas?”

     I nod. I don’t think I can but what else can I do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try update twice today because I'm going to London tomorrow and it would be mean leaving the last chapter hanging in the air for five days ^-^ I'm off to write more


	10. Ten

I can’t face school the next day “you can’t stay out every day” mom said half out the door. Yea I know but I can miss the worst of it. The page has an insane amount of likes. Literally more likes than students in the school. Checking, Alison has invited everyone on my friends list to like the page so there are the few hundred students from my old school too. Topping it off my main offender in my old school posted a picture to the page I never thought anyone had. How did he get a picture of me kissing a guy? How do people have access to this shit? I haven’t spoken to the guys since a photo of me in a poor attitude pose was posted to each of their pages. I’m sure that weirded them out enough to never speak to me again.

     I decide I’ll spend the day lying on the hall floor. I come down stairs for food but lose the will to move on the way and just fall to the floor. It’s still a bit damp here from where I lay down yesterday. It’s nice and cold too. Maybe I’ll catch hypothermia and die.

     That thought makes me sit up. Not from shock at my thoughts of death but from shock that I think I could get hypothermia _from my floor._

     “Idiot,” I groan at myself, “they should call the page _hardcore idiot ballet fag._ ”

     I make myself toast and sit staring gloomily out the kitchen window at the rain. It’s nearly November now. Soon the rain will turn to sludge. It’s nearly November which means it’s nearly Halloween. My birthday. I’ll spend my turning 17 in my room alone probably eating toast and drinking vodka that will get me grounded more.

     The doorbell rings.

     “Uh, one second!” I shout, running upstairs to find trousers. I hop across the landing one leg in and then run down the stairs. I open the door as I close the button and someone jumps on me. Under the weight of the person I land back on the cold, damp hall floor. “Hey what…” I mumble trying to rub the back of my head they just smacked off the ground.

     Pete sits up, straddling me. “Awh man are you alright? We all got invited to like the page and knew that it was probably that bitch trying to fuck with you. Don’t worry she did the same to me once, posted my nudes all over Facebook, made a page in dedication and everything. Total bitch. It stayed up till the police took it down but my dick is probably still on google images. Point is she has no creativity and people will get bored fairly soon, they’ll leave you alone after a while and forget about it.”

     I stare up at Pete trying to make sense of everything that just happened. “Could you get off me?” I manage to say at last.

     He grins and nods then rolls off me hitting the radiator by the stairs. Bert, from the doorway, extends me his hand and pulls me to my feet. “Thanks,” I say and pull up my pants which Pete never let me close.

     “Welcome.”

     “So, uh, you saw all the pictures?” I say a little awkwardly. Everyone nods. “Want to come in?” Everyone nods again.

     They all sit in my kitchen, dripping with rain water. Gerard’s eyeliner has run and is pooling at his chin. Mikey looks dishevelled and slightly confused. Gabe and Pete are grinning constantly and Bert sits quietly threatening a smile. “So…” I say in the silence.

     “You okay man?” Mikey asks looking up through his cloudy glasses.

     “As okay as I can be I guess…” I grumble. “I mean my social life is ruined and so is one of my friend’s school election campaign that he was working really hard on and now everyone is probably going to know that I did all that horrible stuff to those who pissed Alison off and my stomach hurts. But yea I’m fucking fabulous.”

     Everyone sits rigid. Even Pete looks at loss for words.

     “Uh, why’d it happen?” Gerard asks looking at his feet.

      I sit up straight. I really didn’t want to have to tell them. I was really hoping I’d get embarrassed and that’s that. “Well, I was spotted by lead bitch’s sister at ballet when I was failing and she videoed me…” I tell them everything right up to Brendon’s power point. I don’t leave out any details. I talk about doing Carl’s homework and about the gay porn story. I mention how Ellie got in the way and the one sided bitch arguments where Alison just screamed at Madison and Madison just screamed at Alison. The guys sit silently listening to it all, turning over the horrible things over in their minds. When I’m finished I slink into silence. No one decides to speak next.

     After a painfully long while Gee speaks, “We don’t care that you do ballet though Frank. Explains why you have good balance and to that thing where you point your toe when you’re boarding. I think it’s fucking awesome you so ballet actually.”

     I raise my eyebrows because what is he actually saying. “Yea its fucking cool you do your own thing man,” he explains.

     The others nod in agreement. “You could have told us all of that shit man! While it was happening! Plus I bet you’re not as bad as that bitch makes you look. You were so beaten up in the video I’ surprised you could even stand,” Gabe smiles.

     “Could we go to your next show?” Gerard asks. He’s grinning but I think he’s actually serious.

     “Wait, really?” I say sliding off my kitchen counter.

     They all nod eagerly. “Yea, sure, I mean why not. I’m the male lead. I’m the only guy but still in past years they gave the male lead to a girl,” I say proudly.

     “Fucking awesome!” Pete says.

     “Um do you want food?” I say feeling like I should offer the five most awesome humans something for making me feel like dying of hypothermia on my hall floor is no longer my only decent option.

     “Sure.”

     I make a lot of mac and cheese to the sounds of “I knew it, it’s still on the internet!”, “how did they get pictures of you kissing a guy” and “are you wearing a fucking tutu? That’s fucking hilarious man.”

     We eat and play GTA. The guys snuck out of school just to come over and try cheer me up and I can tell you now it’s fucking working. At like two o clock I decide to go on Facebook again just to see if any further damage has been made.

     “You have an Ask.fm?” Gabe asks shaking his head, looking over my shoulder.

     “Yea… I know pretty stupid but everyone got it…” I feel really stupid.

     “You get bullied and you have a way for people to say shit to you anonymously?” Bert blurts incredulously.

     “Yes, it’s obviously dumb, let’s drop it?” I hate looking or feeling dumb. I know it’s stupid to allow people to say shit anonymously and honestly I don’t even remember getting it in the first place.

     “Got any questions?” Gerard says sitting all but on top of me on the couch.

     I click on the icon. “Uh yea like thirty.”

     “Wanna answer them,” he says. I look up and he’s grinning devilishly.

     “Uh, what.”

     Everyone is looking at Gee now. “Oh come on, if they’re being assholes lets be assholes back.”

     Pete sits in on my other side and somehow six guys manage to squeeze in on the sofa.

     “Okay uh the first question I see here is, “Why u still doin ballet fag”,” I say reading a question that came in almost immediately.

     “Say; “So I can put on a show for all my gay lovers,”” Gabe suggests. I type it in grinning.

     “Another is “Do you have no self-respect” ouch,” I say looking down at another anonymous statement.

     “Say “Possibly”” Mikey says leaning across his older brother. I type it in and press send. Giving calm and sarcastic replies are the only good thing about anonymous hate. If you can even think there’s a good thing.

     “This one says “why don’t you go die there’s no need for you to stay if you just embarrass yourself”” Well that is a bit dry.

      Everyone turns this one over in their mind. “Uh maybe just say “no”,” Gabe suggests.

     “Or maybe “right back at you,”” suggests Gee. I make a small grunting noise and type it in.

     We answer all the questions with the same dry unamused sarcasm. “Homosexuality is a sin” “So is judging”, “I don’t like you” “I’m so offended”, “Lol that tutu is so gay” “So am I”, “If ur gonna do smthn as faggotty as ballet you could at least b gud” “If you’re going to do something as pointless as insult me you could at least spell”, “Why did you try hide your gayness everyone knew you were a fag the ballet would have justified it” “I didn’t know I had to justify my sexuality. I’ll make sure to wear rainbows and tutus from now on, no hiding the homo”, etcetera. It was really enjoyable. So fun that after a while I forgot these were all direct insults at me.

     The guys leave at three and promise to return later to hang out. Even after the fun with Ask.fm I don’t feel like being seen by anyone really.

     My mom comes home but spends an hour shouting down the phone. I know straight away she’s talking to the school and she’s not happy. She’s talking about transferring schools, bills, bullying and all that. She goes from politely asking to rage when they challenge her. I even hear “why the f- , ehem, why ever not?” being screamed. Oh god Linda Iero is angry when she starts cursing.

     We eat dinner and mom glares at her plate. It’s silent for a while then she can’t hold it in anymore, “What is the point in an anti-bullying policy if no one enforces it, at all. I’ve heard all sorts of stories from a woman in work whose daughter had her hair _dyed black_ by some popular girl trying to get revenge on a friend. What even is that?” She pokes her pork chop angrily. “And another thing I heard is that the teachers didn’t even look into any of it until school equipment and sports stuff started getting destroyed.”

     I look down at my plate, guilt ripping through me. “Excuse me,” I say standing up.

     “Not hungry, are you feeling okay?” Mom looks worried now.

     “Yea I’m fine,” I say leaving my plate at the sink and running outside. I could have put my plate in the dishwasher but leaving it to my mom isn’t exactly the worst I’ve done.

      I skate down through the street and meet Bert at the entry to the park. We skate toward the library, joking about all the insult attempts we retaliated earlier.

 

Everyone stares at me from the moment I get out of my mom’s car. People whisper to each other really obviously and laugh and one guy offers to sell me his sister’s tutu. “It would probably fit you”.

     “Yea that’s a good one, putting that in my list of most hurtful insults,” I shout back and people snigger. Laughing with me or at me I don’t know and don’t want to know.

     Ray runs over to me when I reach my locker and starts gushing about how sorry he is and how he has Ryan and Brendon working on taking down the page and that it’s all slowly getting deleted. “Why didn’t you tell us you did ballet? You must have known that she had those videos, we could have helped or something!” Ray says looking rather hurt.

     At lunch Brendon apologises constantly as we move up in the lunch line, “honestly, it’s okay, it wasn’t you” I try reassure him but he just seems so sorry.

     I get a lot of jeers all day. Chemistry Carl stays awake specifically to try piss me off. English is brilliant though because the teacher decides to force Billie Elliot down our throats. It’s a story about a boy who lives in a rough part of England during a serious strike. The teacher holds me after class to see if I’m okay and I think it’s safe to say she’s my favourite teacher.

    Jeers upon jeers until I finally lash out, “yea I’m bi it’s hilarious. Unless you want to blow me fuck off!” After that it dies down a little.

     The day ends in a flurry of gay jokes and bitchy campaign posters and god I just want to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter should be up tomorrow, very early. I mean in literally nine hours away because then I have to drive to the airport. I hope you've enjoyed the story and thanks again for all the lovely comments, you've given me a reason to write and thank you for it because I honestly enjoy it a lot ^-^


	11. Eleven

 

My birthday was fucking brilliant. Pete hosted a house party in my name and loads of people I don’t know showed up in fancy dress. Most of the girls wore revealing cat costumes but some went all out with horror movie style face paint and costumes. One girl just wore all black and claimed to be Gerard. They played a shit ton of good music and I drank enough vodka to make me question the health of my liver. I was introduced to everybody that Pete deems “cool” in the town including people three, four, five years older. They all compliment me on the great party even though I did literally nothing but turn seventeen.

     When I’m really drunk I end up doing pirouettes across the Wentz family living room with a girl called Ashley who’s in my ballet class. Everyone claps and takes more shots. It’s hard to tell exactly what happened after I showed my ballerina abilities but I know it was my favourite part. Gee said he wasn’t feeling terribly well so we passed beer keg after beer keg searching for a bathroom. Once we find one, for some reason we couldn’t until we found the en suit of Pete’s parent’s room, Gerard locks the door. “I feel okay now Frankie,” he giggled and pushed me on to the bathroom floor. It’s very cold and mildly damp but I don’t hope for hypothermia. I made out with a hot guy on a bathroom floor and in a bath but sadly I’m pretty sure I’m still a virgin. I should get that tattooed on me _Forever a Virgin_ somewhere in Chinese. These are the kind of things I think of when I’m drunk and licking the neck of a way cooler guy.

    

School passed in the following month and a half after my birthday like a new version of hell. I only got beat up twice, for various reasons, and shoved inside a locker once. It was a gym locker in the girl’s room though and yea I got detention for three weeks. It would have been longer had I not told them I was fully gay and had no intention of seeing a half-naked freshman girl. I think they let me away with it because it made them really uncomfortable.

     People began to forget about me doing ballet. Either that or they just stop caring. The whole being small, bi and forever dressed in black didn’t really stop or lessen the shit I got.

     My ask.fm has been pretty empty of late but whenever I do get an anonymous message I call Gerard and we spend about twenty minutes coming up with the best possible answers.

     I survive triangles with the feint hope we’ll move on to something that doesn’t involve shapes. The next chapter: Venn Diagrams.

     Brendon won the election to everyone’s surprise. His campaign for some reason kept the anti-loser slogan Alison had made as hard as Brendon tried to shake it. It evolved though to target Alison, no one really gets how, and I think he won because no one wants to be controlled by Alison or Madison. The feud between them grew so much that there is a Facebook page dedicated to posting secrets about of each of them. _The truth about Maddie_ is literally a long list of people she’s fucked and _The facts on Ali_ is a long list of crazy ass shit Alison has done to fuck with people and try ruin them. People get sick and tires of them really quickly and focus their attentions and gossip on the pregnant sophomore, the fired teacher and the winter prom.

     Maddie managed to bleach her hair and dye it marshmallow pink which she thinks is an improvement on fading black. Maybe it is but she looks like an anime character gone wrong.

     Ellie turned out to be a pretty cool person my mom forced me to interact with when she was hanging out with her new colleague and friend, Ellie’s mom.

     My mom manages to sort out a deal with the schools that will allow me to move after Christmas. As much as I love Bob, Ray, Brendon and Ryan, I hate that the school is eating itself alive, that almost everyone is homophobic and that the jocks still think it’s hilarious that I fit in the lockers. I’ll still hang out with them though and see them outside of being my protection.

 

Everyone is running around. It’s dark and eerily silent back here. Every now and then you hear feet thumping and the sound of fabric brushing off skin. I sneak away from my chair where my outfits are laid out and take a peak around the curtain. The town hall is almost full. I see five guys dressed in black, all but one with dyed black hair, creeping down the stairs. They check the number on their programmes and sidle in past a pack of grandparents to take their seat right in the centre. I grin broadly, never have I seen people fit in less. “Frank, are you ready?” Adrienne hisses from behind me, “Four minutes to show time!” Her whisper is as powerful as any shout which is fucking frightening.

     I nod, “almost.” I tighten my shoes again and powder some white dust on the soles for extra grip. Adrienne nods in approval and sends me over to my side of the stage. I look across from the edge of the curtain to where five girls stand ready to pose when the curtain lifts. Little purple tutus, French plaits and white leotards. I’ve platted a lot of the younger girl’s hair today because Adrienne didn’t have time. I feel like a mother. Across the sea of girls I see Ashley stumble into position. For a normally clumsy girl she’s fucking graceful on her toes. She got female lead. She’s at least half a head taller than me but she’s as light as a feather.

     I hear the announcer in front of the stage. The muffled voice says the name of the show and school and compliments Adrienne as choreographer. The crowd claps. The curtain begins to lift and claps and whistles become clearer. “Fuck yea Frank!” Someone calls, probably Pete. The girls are all standing en pointe now. They give each other nervous smiles and take deep breaths.

     The music plays when they are in full view to the crowd and the girls on stage begin their dance. More girls run on and join in. After a minute and twenty three seconds Ashley paces on. The girls dance around her like they’re in awe and Ashley performs some cool shit that she made up but looks very like a ballerina.

     Then it’s my turn. I leap onto stage and do my solo bit. The girls dance around me and Ashley and then leave the stage. We dance together and then separately, performing rival pirouettes and pliés. We brisé into the centre again and I stand tall (as I can) before Ashley. I pace to the far side and take hold of her waste before we dip into a slow graceful fish dive. I hold her light frame in place as she keeps her leg as straight in the air as imaginable. The music ends and everyone claps and in the small space where Ashley’s leg blocks out the harsh stage lights, where I am no longer blind, I catch Gerard’s eye. He smiles goofily and winks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's very short because really it's an epilogue. In this chapter I'm just letting you know what happened next and that I didn't let Alison ruin him completely XD thank you for reading and I hope the end isn't disappointing


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